Hermit Island

02 Jan

Happy Birthday Abe, Dylan and the rest of you : )


I smell the sweet wind over the dunes

in a warm Maine summer morn.

Papa said it’s fine to dive into the Sea

between breaking waves and sky.

I took his advice.

I surface out of breath, with a smile.

Dusk faded into flickering flashing lights.

Chocolate milk and sparkling stars

captured in growing eyes.

Mama said, “Let them go,

There is no room in the car.”

We left them on the shore of the Sea

closing our eyes

as they were saved in memory;

with sparks of lightening in echoes of light.

It was time to go home.

But, she added “not until dawn”.


Posted by on January 2, 2020 in Children, Existential, Love, Mothers, Poetry, Zen


Tags: ,

8 responses to “Hermit Island

  1. hypercryptical

    January 6, 2020 at 5:29 pm

    I’m intrigued too of what was left behind – but love your story nevertheless!
    Anna :o]


  2. Myrna

    January 6, 2020 at 12:08 pm

    I love the sensitivity in this. Lovely poem and a lovely memory.


  3. Sherry Marr

    January 5, 2020 at 10:18 pm

    This poem took me to the shores of Maine, and summer. Love the fireflies, and that they were set free again to flicker on. Today I walked my wild western shore. It was windy and sunny and the waves were big. Very beautiful.


  4. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

    January 5, 2020 at 7:40 pm

    What a gorgeous memory! And what great parents, obviously.



    January 5, 2020 at 3:47 pm

    Clams? Starfish? What was left on the shore? I’m intrigued.


  6. Susie Clevenger

    January 5, 2020 at 1:35 pm

    This is beautiful, rich with memories. I love the thought of letting go of stars because there is not room enough to hold them.


  7. Magaly Guerrero

    January 5, 2020 at 10:58 am

    Memory is a great place where to keep things we wish to see again.


  8. magicalmysticalteacher

    January 5, 2020 at 9:01 am

    Heartwarming childhood tale…and I love that wise mama. She obviously knows the secrets of the stars!



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