At The Shore, We Are All Children

Posted on by Marty Luster

The hurrying tumbling waves, quick-broken crests, slapping,
The strata of color’d clouds, the long bar of maroon-tint, away solitary by itself—the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon’s edge, the flying sea-crow, the fragrance of salt marsh and shore mud;
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who now goes, and will always go forth every day.

From There Was a Child Went Forth, Walt Whitman.
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Published by Marty Luster

I'm Marty Luster, a retired attorney and politician. In 2010 my wife, mother-in-law, dog and I relocated from Central NY to Gloucester. I hope my photographs and poetry(?) reflect my love for this place and her people. My picture-poem posts can be seen at http://matchedpairs.wordpress.com and selected black and white images can be found at http://slicesoflifeimages.wordpress.com

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