Gerritsen Beach
I walked along the water
in a sunny autumn marsh.
The silty sand
and grasses underfoot
impressible and yielding.
I saw the bodies
of small crabs, scattered
here and there along the way,
victims of an unknown shift,
caught unprepared.
From a congress of reeds
along the water’s edge
A white crane rose
on a silent vector—
horizon-wise
where points of the city glance
and glister—
that distant isle
fulgent and blue
against the pale scrim.
As I turned back
toward the road
The sun flashed
on the panes of the last
few houses of town.
The water’s surface,
rippled and calm,
caught the same—
and rendered it
a blinding flare.
(This may be my poet-wise, unintentional abstract postmortem of election night 2016.)
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 
Thank you, Joepinto. Often when I’m photographing things, seeds of wider descriptions are planted, or at least the ‘why’ behind my decision-making, image-wise.
Ergo, “revisited”.
I looked back to that wander for a moment of calm amid nerves caused by endless reading and absorbing of the current State of the Union (if it can yet be called that), and how we got here.
1. Fulgent!
2. This is why we’re friends. I didn’t know all of this was going through your head as we walked back to the car. But I’m not the least bit surprised.
3. Scrim!