Cape Cod

        grey wood, green duck flew
        through wisps of blurred pine and mist
        all day had been dusk

        the faint smell of salt
        mixed with humus, old cedar
        and damp ocean fog

        small brown-winged hawk floats
        effortlessly above me
        and the rough, dark earth

        rigid bare-brown woods:
        a yellow poplar dances
        alone with the wind

        black stumps, misshapen
        reflections in a dark pool
        deep brown and stagnant

        sparkling water drop
        jewel dripping from the tip
        of red wax berry

        only the steady
        chirp of the hidden cricket
        stirs the autumn trees

        salt water inlet
        the only sound was yellow
        sun sinking on shore

 
            By Charles H. Tidwell, Jr, in Spectrum: A Quarterly Journal of the Association of Adventist Forums, 7.4 (April 1976): 32.