Poem: The Salt Marsh


The Salt Marsh

The salt marsh at high tide teems with life.
You won’t see it at first, but wait.
Wait and watch and listen. You will see it.
A flitter at first. A ripple. A rustle.
The longer you are still, the more life you see.

About this poem. 

The older I get, the more I learn by being still.

The picture is of the salt marsh at the end of Provincetown, Massachusetts. One of my favorite places. I think it is partially because it reminds me of the mill pond and Blackwater Swamp in Surry County, Virginia, where my favorite grandfather lived. Only with horizons.


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