CHINCOTEAGUE

  

I called to the wild ponies of the Sun,

But cormorants and egrets came instead;

The latter standing still as space in creeks

On one leg while the other yellow foot

Seductively allured the foolish fish;

The cormorants choked down their prey with haste,

Not making any effort to be still.

A herd of ponies kept too far away,

Reduced to half the size of my thumbnail

Beneath a group of trees across a field.

I gave up on the thought of ponies then,

And sauntered through the marshes on a trail

That teemed with butterflies and goldenrod,

The Atlantic splashing like a baby’s bath

Upon the other side of the sand dunes,

Where “No Trespassing” signs forbade my feet.

The sika deer revealed themselves to me,

If only for the sake of the wild grass

They munched so heartily. I stood beside

One fellow, and he sniffed at me a while

Before deciding I was not his food.

Behind me the old lighthouse, still in use,

Was twirling its red ribbons up and down

Against the white sheath wherein my sore legs

Ascended steps one hundred ninety eight,

And my un-osprey-like blue eyes surveyed

The island refuge for the pony herds

Beneath the blue immense October sky.

The ponies stayed aloof. Endangered squirrels

Ran out in front of me as I slowed down

The car to meet the posted rate of speed.

I lingered on those shores those golden days

Till time became an issue, and I stood

Upon the beach to say goodbye to all

The creatures of my fancies. What a sight

Delayed me there beyond my scheduled hour!

The horses danced before me in the waves,

And frolicked with each other--just as close,

Or far away, as any sight one sees

Arising from the ocean of the Mind!