By Glen Stephens

Masts at the marina totter with each gust
drunken sticks staggering nowhere

finches have fled the feeder
hide deep in the dark trees
by the path to the water

the laughing gull like
Lear’s jester

 has disappeared

days and nights
of rain and wind and  now
water rattles down the drains
the walls shudder

gray earth
wooden houses
along the shore seem

slowly dissolving

out on the Sound
on the dark water
a foolish cormorant on a post
holding wings out wide

as if to dry

Copyright 2007 Glen Stephens