April 2, 2021
Photo by Clayton Nottleman

A Poem by Suzann Heron

As I stand on the edge of the high dune
Ocean waves breaking
Tasha shack stands tall and free
she holds up so far
Year after year
And I’m always tentative each time
I see her.
A sigh of relief.
Tears stream down my face
Sand in my shoes
Am I loosing my senses over this place ?
A place That seems to hold my soul
And offer a home
A welcome embrace
Wind, wind, wind 
The ever speaking wind calling out the names along the breeze
Names we all know and carry in our hearts
The names of the ancestors come before
They ride the wind and waves
Speak to me in a low and easy voice
About the whales in April
Wild cranberries
Fox and coyote running free
As the gulls swoop down for their morsels and own this beach.
The dunes high and vast as the eye can see
Unfolding over and over again
as soon as you reach the top
Of the first dune
from snail road
There’s another for your delight
Keeping you away if your faint of heart or breath
The dunes are
Far away from every living thing
And an ear shot of traffic.
You can lose your sanity here
Or find yourself
In this wild and glorious place
Under the upside down U tree
That tells all and everything
Of, following the path
Back to sanity
Or the traffic

To submit your own photo or poem, email Assistant Library Director Brittany Taylor at btaylor@clamsnet.org