Acadia Poem Sea Poem Apologies to Basho Poem

On A Narrow Road to Acadia National Park

In Acadia, in April,
before the storm,
the roads are closed.

But we navigate a passage
underneath a bridge
emerging on a bay.

Absolutely no one there--
the seagulls cry
above the empty harbor.

The coastline is a granite rung
the color of a peach
and pine trees waiting skywards.

Far past the mouth, some islands
lift the near horizon
like mirages in a desert.

The sea is mercury
beneath an overcast,
close by and mottled sky.

All seems motionless
despite the rippled waves
and wings of birds above them.

I know that Church once painted
mountains in the background
from this point in 1850.

And still, 2007
doesn’t look dissimilar
seeing in this stark and other way.


~Son Rivers 2007 (rev-1)