Author: Marty Luster

Reminders

The tide always leaves reminders of its visit;

Sometimes, when it’s violent, it might be

an eroded beach or a new inlet.

It might leave a watermark on our first story wall

or an automobile’s headlights peeking above the surface

like the eyes of a startled frog.

But, happily, most often, the tide gently comes and goes,

leaving only soft ripples in the sand and shallow pools

where we see ourselves and play with our children.

    Let us be respectfully reminded:
Life and death are of supreme importance.
Time swiftly passes by, and with it,
our only chance.
Each of us must aspire to awaken.
Be aware.
Do not squander our life.

–    Charlotte Joko Beck

                    A Nice Photo

I thought it would make a nice photo;

a sailboat moored in the tide-flooded marsh,

accented and framed by deep green trees and vegetation.

But what really makes the image intriguing

is not what you see, but what you can’t see.

The backdrop of heavy fog is a curtain

that limits our vision to the present

and forces our attention to here and now.

We can only guess and surmise

what’s beyond this soft and opaque cloud.

It’s a nice photo, I think.

. . . on Main Street.

Sita with his Schnauzers, Taboo and Remy.

I only had a few seconds to grab these quick shots of the first-quarter moon playing hide and seek behind  sunset tinted clouds.

All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning. Great works are often born on a street corner or in a restaurant’s revolving door.

Albert Camus

Click images to enlarge.

May I Help You?

I watched  an older couple, in the glare of the sun,

move slowly and carefully down the hard granite steps

of the Sargent House Museum.

When they reached the gate, they paused before determining

the safest way to negotiate the opening and descend the final few steps

to the street.

It reminded me of the time, earlier in the summer,

when I slowly and carefully made my way across the black slippery

rocks at Pavillion Beach soon after they had emerged from their

six hour tidal bath.

I must have appeared unsteady and unsure,

because from nearby came the voice of a woman who asked,

“May I help you sir?” as she extended her hand which

I thankfully grasped.

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