Restless Sea

7th Day of the 7th Month

A path over sand dunes
to empty strand where
plovers construct their nests –
rhythm of sea flows
in and out with tides
as evening colors horizon.
No fright of approaching dark
nor a jump at shadows.
I look to the heavens,
to our time of reunion,
beyond this earth
in a universe of stars.

Lainie Senechal

Surf, Plum Island

On Plum Island

Over the tidal river,
along border of Great Marsh,
raspy rattle of redwing blackbirds
newly arrived from south
to establish territories in reeds.
An ascent up tall dunes
of this extensive barrier island
that secures the coast
from full assault launched
by fierce Atlantic storms.
Beach is nearly deserted
on a balmy spring day;
empty strand a protection
for piping plovers who strut
along edge of surf to search
for morsels left by tide.
Set up chair to relax
beside boundary of refuge;
a chain of clouds like
puffs from passing train
hover above the coast.
Gulls gather to squabble
over scraps deposited on sand.
A steady procession of vessels
enter and exit distant harbor.
Waves murmur mysteries
heard in distant realms.
Nothing perturbs the peace
of an April afternoon
and one’s thoughts are lost
in the reverie of sea, sky and shore.

Lainie Senechal