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Author: 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
The Real Phyllis A
Brooklyn Music Scene
Down by the Docks – Brooklyn Style
At the Wheel
When I Visit The Docks at Night
When I Visit The Docks at Night
When I visit the docks at night I enter a mystical realm;
what’s familiar in the daylight becomes a stage for a
pageant from another age –a reminder of what has been
and a plea from the past for us not to forget.
Work for the day has ended, the docks are empty.
The boats are all secured and the gulls are quiet.
It’s night and our vision is limited, but small sounds,
as from an unseen wind chime, render accompaniment.
The stage is set as the yellow glare from the tethered boats
is diffused in the mist that has descended across the harbor.
It offers a comforting aura to an audience of one
and a mellow atmosphere that softens the chill night air.
At night in the shadows cast by the pilings and the rigging
and the nearby buildings on the wharf, unseen and unheard,
I listen to the hubbub of the ancient crews as they gather
on these docks to lay in stores and ice and their very lives.
I see their dories nested on deck, the trawl tubs loaded
and the buoys and anchors assembled.
They await their voyage to the Banks and their
deployment at the proper time and place.
I see hope in those faces that their dories may
be filled with hundreds of thousands of pounds
of fish; that their payday is generous and their
return to this good port is swift and safe.
And, as I listen and watch this pageant unfold,
my wish is that all those whose voices I hear
and whose faces I see and whose hopes I feel, will return
to perform for me when I again visit the docks at night.
© Marty Luster 2012
Stare at This and Forget the Rain
Bursting Forth
Serene Supreme
Popped Poppy
On Eastern Point
Niles Pond Swan
The Old Map
The Old Map
The old map I picked up downtown at Fred Bodin’s
tells me a lot about where I am.
In 1884 my house would have been part
of the holdings of Wilber E. Proctor, whose family
owned quite a bit of land in West Gloucester.
But the map also tells me that there was no
dwelling where mine now stands, or anywhere else
on Mr. Proctor’s land; that nearly the entire area
of the Adams Estate, which included Wingaersheek,
and Wambull’s property along Coffin’s Beach, was vacant.
Atlantic Street was there, skirting the marsh as it does today;
branching with Atlantic Avenue which ran straight to
the beach, giving Benjamin Trumbell access to his home
near Sleepy Hollow Pond. Who knows, the remains
of his three buildings may still be there in those woods.
But not a sign on the map of the houses now crammed
quite close together, each vying for a better view
of the ocean and the beach and the light across the bay;
each the home of joyous summer and the expectation
of more to come, but that map has not yet been made.
© Marty Luster 2012
Texting On the Rocks
Hanging Out
Readings From the Writings of Judith Sargent Murray at at the Sargent House Museum
After the Rain
You left WHATon the dock?!?
Not in the Mainstream
You’re invited to visit my new blog entitled “Matched Pairs.” Despite the name, it’s not a dating service, but when completed will be home to my regular Sunday GMG photo + poem posts. Take a look at the work in progress and let me know what you think.
Thanks.
Marty



















