© 2016 Louise Welch
rugged with
gulls
toughened by
raw weather by
unpeopled
growth stench
rust & wash
barrels & wire
gulls protest when
we land
on the beach
poke among
shells climb to the green
so high she thinks
of snakes
does not proceed
under the gull hover
to visit the light
the rust but feels textures
in the sand with wet feet
hauls a little on the painter
keeps her head to wind
Melissa de Haan Cummings
Melissa de Haan Cummings majored in French and English Literature at Bryn Mawr. She has published poetry in a number of journals. She describes her interests as including, “much small boating around Cape Ann, love of Charles Olson, Hatha yoga practice since 1969.”
Enduring Gloucester 
I could feel it — Thanks!
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I grew up with it in my daily view–it seemed so remote and so mysterious–like Treasure Island! It should always be such a wild and mysterious place. Louise’s photo looks like an illustration plate in a Robert Louis Stevenson adventure. Love both poem and picture–evokes a special place and timeless natural beauty. Thanks for sharing with this homesick Glosta girl.
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Lovely short poem about an island that’s been haunting Gloucester fisherman as they left for the sea and return home hopefully with many fish to feed the family and to feed the world
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