Kelly DuMar

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#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Butterfly Weed

An island is one great eye

    gazing out, a beckoning lighthouse,

searchlight, a wishbone compass,

    or counterweight to the stars.

When it comes to outlook & point

    of view, a figure stands on a rocky ledge

peering out toward an archipelago

    of glass on the mainland, a seagull’s

wings touching the tip of a high wave,

    out to where the brain may stumble. . .

~ Excerpt from Islands By Yusef Komunyakaa

The trail I took this morning with Charlie and Suzi, off of our dirt road led to a wonderful meadow. There are so many meandering trails on Chappaquiddick I want to explore all of them. After walking the dogs I went to poetry workshop and felt very gratified by Joan’s discussion of my poem. It was sunny, and I sat outdoors in the quiet yard. I have been listening to Miranda July’s novel, “All Fours.” It’s pretty remarkable in its exploration of the impact of menopause on a woman’s body, psyche and spirituality. Daring and provocative and explosive. A storm rolled in while I was on the beach with Franci in the Bronco. Poured and thundered most of the afternoon and I got quite a bit of work done indoors. The days are swinging rapidly into September, a busy September, a creative September. To Edgartown tonight and then a drive to Wasque Beach in the Bronco after dark, under the clearing sky, the stars breaking through. I am in love with the thick, abundant, colorful flora and fauna of Chappaquiddick.