Skip to content

History

March 21, 2012

jennybadman

I read the history of a nearby beach
Affectionately called “the Edge of America”
As it happens, in the 1700s, this sandy stretch of land
Was rather less affectionately called “Coffin Island”
Due to ships passing by from the harbor
To lay their cholera dead to rest
In shallow, sandy graves
And sail on

Strange
How easily graves become the foundations
Of something else
How coffins
Become towns

This is time’s gift
Softening grief’s jagged edges
Turning marrow and bone to dust
Calling our attention back
To the shimmering sunrise

Advertisements

8 Comments

Post a comment
  1. Em #
    March 21, 2012

    Love it!

  2. March 21, 2012

    Your dad would be proud of you for looking into that sunshine, Dear. xo

    • March 21, 2012

      Thanks, friend. I appreciate your kind words…made me all welly!

  3. March 22, 2012

    i love you jenny badman

  4. March 23, 2012

    A most interesting bit of history in the poem….enjoyed you verse.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: