Unburying The Dune Shack

Pink wild roses
grey-shingled hut sitting on stilts

fiddler crabs scurry about
salvage and driftwood

pungent smell of seaweed algae

the Cape we always went to
buried under the dunes

Oh, my children
each time the tide crashes

used to collect stones, shells
re-using planks and railings
old cedar deck, rebuilt
cranberry bog,

village cemetery

falling into the sea

spadefoot toad foraging
perched on marram grass

pale-yellow sun this morning:

Oh, my children
each time the tide crashes

wood-and-sand fence
falling into the sea.

Photo Credit

Photographs by Kim Knox, (c) 2001, licensed to About.com, Inc.

 First Posted At sunday @ 6 mag

Guest Author Bio

Ilona Martonfi
Ilona Martonfi Author of two poetry books, Blue Poppy, (Coracle Press, 2009.) Black Grass, (Broken Rules Press 2012). Published in Vallum, Accenti, The Fiddlehead, Serai. Founder/producer of The Yellow Door and Visual Arts Centre Readings, co-founder of Lovers and Others. QWF 2010 Community Award.

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