A Recovered Poem

About 13 years ago last week fire destroyed our apartment in Ossining, NY and we lost a lot of valuable things - the most precious of which were just mementos or heirlooms. Chief among my losses were the poems I wrote in college.

There was one in particular that I wrote after going to the ocean in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, at the invitation of my college room mate, Pat, and his family.

I had not seen the ocean in my adult life at that point. I had dim memories of it from a child, but not much. We left Syracuse at about 10PM and drove through the night to arrive at a small harbor near where Pat's family rented a cottage on the beach of Saco Bay.

There, as the sun rose and we shook off the chill of night driving and stretched our legs, I saw the most amazing 15 minutes of sunrise up to that point in my life. Seals, gulls, wharf cats, the sweet grass and salt smell of a tidal marsh - and the sun woke all of it and brought it to life as it has done every day since we climbed from the sea.

I took a picture using a borrowed camera and when I developed it, saw that it faithfully captured the mood. I would make a print of it and give it to Pat as a thank you note when I got the chance. I wasn't happy with just that, though, so I sketched out this poem to go with it, put it in a hinged double frame, and gave it to him for Christmas that year.

I was so happy with it that it was the only poem I entered in a yearly contest at school. I got a second place prize, but a better compliment from my teacher, who was the judge. "If you'd entered more, you would have won." That was good enough for me. I was happy with it.

After the fire I searched my parents' house to see if they had a copy. My father sent me a box full of all the things he had that I'd written. Neither source had my masterpiece. I remembered Pat had it, though, so I sent him an email, requesting a copy. He said it was buried in his attic during remodeling and it would be some time before could send it to me. Ten years later, here it is. I only regret one thing about writing it - that I included no sense of that sweet smell of the tide rushing inland. I catch a glimpse of it when I have oysters, though.