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