A path of crushed shells
Oyster ghosts’ complaining shards
A crunch underfoot
Once “Chesepiook”
Explorers noted the name
Algonquian echo
Fossils on the beach
Children squeal at ancient finds
Where cliffs slough sharks’ teeth
Captain John Smith’s trail
Yellow buoys mark the way
Past remains present
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Copyright Deborah McGlauflin, August 2011. All rights reserved.
We are all take in information about the world around us through all our senses all the time, but we each have a primary sense. Mine is auditory. I know the world first and mainly by how I hear it. This poem, “Soundings,” shares a bit of how I hear and know the Chesapeake Bay. I guess you could call it my personal lullaby.