POEMS/ Walk Down Pearl Street Towards the Bay
Walk Down Pearl Street Towards the Bay
Breathe salt air, pick in your mind
a bouquet of gladiolas and lilies,
listen to a sparrow chorus,
putt and purr of outboard motors.
Go past the tired overturned boat,
empty bicycles lined up like a row of taxies,
read the footprints in the sand,
catch a glimpse of an eider diving.
Do not worry when you are suddenly
pulled upwards into a cloudless sky
carried in the arms of a paraglider.
Let it take you up and out beyond
your map, let it put you down
at the outermost house in the dunes,
and let it lift you again when you are ready
and take you home.
This poem appears in Phyllis's book Finding Ithaca.
Breathe salt air, pick in your mind
a bouquet of gladiolas and lilies,
listen to a sparrow chorus,
putt and purr of outboard motors.
Go past the tired overturned boat,
empty bicycles lined up like a row of taxies,
read the footprints in the sand,
catch a glimpse of an eider diving.
Do not worry when you are suddenly
pulled upwards into a cloudless sky
carried in the arms of a paraglider.
Let it take you up and out beyond
your map, let it put you down
at the outermost house in the dunes,
and let it lift you again when you are ready
and take you home.
This poem appears in Phyllis's book Finding Ithaca.