Americans                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           12-3-09  

You’d think, with the lights flicking on
	At sunset, on Boar’s Head, and further
		Down along the coast, glinting, sparkling stars in the
			Distance, Massachusetts, the long arm of Cape Ann, 
		Blue hills stretching out to sea
Into the crimson sky of sunset, striated clouds above,
	Vivid orange pools in the sand
		Left by the outgoing tide,
And breakers curling and cresting 
	A hundred yards offshore, white spume 
		Crowning the rocky jut of sandbar at the edge of the cove
And the smell of brine so strong, 
	The laugh of the gulls moving inland for the night,
		And the empty beach, the seaweed, the sand,
You’d think I lived in a civilized place,
But I don’t. I live among the Americans.

And from the department of shameless commerce-

“Americans” was a runner-up for the Mirabai Prize for poetry and published in The Raw Art Review Summer 2020.

“Americans” is available in the chapbook “The Cove”, by James Garland, published 2020 and available from Amazon.