At Cape Cod, August, 1969
I am scattered in a thousand places
here and there —
now and then
the wind and waves wash me ashore
ceaselessly
leaving something behind
a remindering
a finding of lost time
I never left
–J.S., “Driftwood”
At Cape Cod, August, 1969
I am scattered in a thousand places
here and there —
now and then
the wind and waves wash me ashore
ceaselessly
leaving something behind
a remindering
a finding of lost time
I never left
–J.S., “Driftwood”