on star island
the rocks and shoalwater
where I split my chuck
tip to heel
foot half-hanging all week itching frayed canvas
shade crags and barnacle’d gulleys
gulls
(real! gulls! plump dovelike not salem harborsick frenchyfry types)
nipping down off young
a reading from James within a flight of treeswallow
nipping down o’er the well
for gnats, pondbugs
e’en the outreaches
cluckhen hutch and muskrat mound
the critter-tilled earth
junkheap waiting for workcrew barge haul
cesspool poopsmell
surfwatching ‘neath a cliff
as conservationist climbs down with bucket of anemone
strips barenaked,
dives into foam
and settles them them into place
climbing again to sunwarmed granite hilltop:
every crack and crevice
disgorging verdant stalks
and yellow petals
and throught the trees
monuments.