(To the moors of Nantucket)
Double rut of sandy road
Wanders the moor with wistful stride
Pond’s mists rise through silvery rays
Salt breeze chill in morning air.
Down I follow nowhere leading
Winding road through thicket green
Under hill past hidden meadow
Sudden wood stands unforeseen.
Rugged pines, bent and aged
Form a veiled, soft needle bed.
Secret room, undetected,
There to wait the dawning light.
Quelled from blast of north wind blowing,
Whines the wind through needle hair.
Swirling wind outside my bower
Creaking limb and falling cone.
Glimpse the clouds through boughs o’re spread,
Swift they ride before the gale.
Graying light of darkened day
Blacker still the storm clouds grow.
Comes cold splash of first drops falling,
Quiet patter starts to rise.
Louder still comes the shower
Sudden wind blows sheets of rain.
On comes the tempest unabated
Swaying roof of evergreen
No sound rises above the storm’s
All is cloud and mists and rain.
Without warning comes a quiet
Softly now the showers fall
Brilliant rays pierce darkened clouds, then
Flash of silver through gentle rain.
Boughs above and grass afield
Glistening now as with the dew
Boldly sun breaks clouds asunder
Fresh the air and day renewed.
Beyond the moor at sand cliffs foot
Roll angry waves with crash and fury
Churning tide surf sandy brown
Reminder of the morning’s storm.
I wander on inspired to see
So swift the changes of the isle
Lonely speck of land at sea
Nature’s beauty, bounty, joy.
© 1995 Craig C. Roberts.
© 1995 Craig C. Roberts.
