The bell was sailing off Canapitsit

The bell was sailing off Canapitsit 

The bell was sailing off of Canapitsit, 

as I cobbled by
on all those rounded stones. 

Nashawena, 

across the water passageway 

of Canapitsit, 

glistened green on 

this summer day, 

as I stood on Cuttyhunk 

in wonder. 

The waters flowed steadily southward
through it, 

direction Martha's Vineyard, 

in early summer 

as I thought of her, 

and the possibilities for joy 

together. 

These native names 

rendered English by usage, 

and from sail, 

ring with a beauty of 

this only somewhat
untouched-by-humans' landscape,
formerly forested, 

which I now see one with, - 

journeying through time, 

(with much great sorrow, loss and passage), - 

and shine in the now here, 

by Canapitsit, 

from Pocutahunconoh, 

which is Cuttyhunk -
where also visited
Wampanoag peoples, I would guess,
and less likely speakers of
the Mi'kmaq language, -
and all Algonquins. 

Native peoples, we remember 

and envision 

non-common-chimp-like history! 

Were we together here singing, 

holding hands, feeling softnesses, 

of each others' arms, 

beaming merrily together, 

to rif with each other in joy, - 

and with eyes, and smiles, especially, - 

we might one here 

in the lee 

of this beach's bank, 

to climax 

in wonder and connecting, ~ 

and for kids? 

But still - the sun shines - 

and we have not yet 

bodymind-joined, yet 

may be connecting in thinking, 

and with words, 

as well as virtually, with our bodyminds, 

while miles and miles away. 

O Bonobos' love, ~ 

yet as unfolding duet. 

Here by the waters of Canapitsit, 

a red bell, 

off in the distance, 

sailed like a wind surfer, 

as we began to sing, 

and crescendo. 

June 27, 2012