Where will we walk
When the beach has gone
Pushed back into
some pickle balled court
or swimming pool
Undermined it slides
into the next wave break
Heading out it fetches up
on the long sunk bunker
sending low tide spray aloft
Another sea bass
fishing reef

Where will we walk
when the beach moves in
squeezing the brackish ponds
the glacial drains
where herring flush with
fertile full spring moon
return each year
to spawn

Where will we walk as
fossils stuck in alluvial clay
pop out like ancient chicklets
to scatter on the
shrinking rock strewn beach
as grazing sheep
stare down

Where will we walk
as pastoral landscapes
framed in pricey galleries
to hang in global cities
or billion dollar
summer trophy shacks
are simply
washed away offshore

Where will we walk
when the beach has gone
and hungry waves have
undermined Atlantic Drive
When first paved we practiced
drum and bugle
for the big parade
Marching up and down
the sea seemed far away

Where will we walk
when the beach has gone
The beach will still be there
it’s merely moving north
heading for Elisha’s fields
where milking cows
once grazed

Read at Edgartown Town Meeting, April 9, 2024