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Barrier Beach Back Country
The Poems
illustrated
Tom Stock
To Purchase This Book
perfect bound, 54 pages, 5.5x8.5
Text printed on 100% post-consumer recycled
Cover printed on 100% PCW (Post-Consumer Waste)
Cover Art from acrylic painting by Julie Stock
$11.00 + 2.00 shipping = total $13.00 / 2 books $25.00 (US) (Canada $15.00)
About the Author and the Place
As a naturalist enthralled by the astounding beauty of Fire
Island, I practice science by observing, making note of what
I see and feel, then writing poems and essays, and then I can
relive the experiences and share them with others. John
Burroughs said it nicely: “I get warmth from wood three
times over: chopping, splitting, burning.—
I wrote and published Nissequogue: A Journey (Street
Press, 1987), and Hidden Agenda: Poems from the Pine
Barrens (Writer’s Ink, 2012), both of which show that my
writing intention is place-oriented. Fire Island isn’t only
about beach days; as a summer ranger in 1987 and 1988,
this barrier beach served to launch me out of a major midlife
crisis. Of the over 3,000 counties in the USA, Suffolk County
is in the top five percent in the preservation of open space.
All these open space areas are my spas.
Fire Island
The name “Fire Island” has a few theories as to the origin.
Whichever is true only adds charm and mystique to this
story of Fire Island in the form of free-verse poetry.
Native Peoples have called it Seal Island or Raccoon Island.
Hurricanes have formed four inlets over the years, thus
Five Islands; perhaps a typo or a mistranslation from the
Dutch changed Five to Fire.
Some people have called it The Graveyard of Ships or Great
South Beach.
Whalers expressed oil from blubber in big iron pots heated
by fires over weeks at a time. Fires were also lit to warn
ships from running ground; Watch Hill is a dune where
such fires were lit.
And perhaps from poison ivy’s itch or its leaves in autumn.
* * * *
SONG FOR FIRE ISLAND
Oh vast panoramic ocean
Time to stand on our doorstep
Oh great Fire Island beach
Let’s wash away our barriers
I stand facing the ocean
with the back country behind me
a six-mile void of forest and dune
Miles of dynamic water
all the way to the horizon
sliced clean
Scanning west to east
the great curve of Earth
connects everything
Beyond the breakers
legions of stripers and blues chase baitfish
I feel drawn into all this energy
Breakers spill swells from faraway storms
spreading their swash on smooth wet sand
only to fall back in a sheen of foam
Loosened and leavened
I hop on a train
bags left on the platform
The rhythm of waves matches
heartbeat and breath,
embedded in all Earth’s cycles
* * * *
ATOP THE LIGHTHOUSE
The breezy cool air
like being in a light aircraft
flying low over Fire Island
Afraid to rest against the guard rail
my fear of heights, clutch the wall
on the beach, the people the size of ants
below, no sense of the height of the trees
the light, every nine seconds
reaches twenty-five miles
my eyes beam with the light
the inlet, the mainland and all the rest
I am on a rocket blasting off
scanning gobs of space
* * * *
SHE SAVED ME
A column of water rushes offshore,
Caught, I am swept out
Powerless
Carried by narrow, foamy current
A lifeguard carrying
an orange buoy
comes to my rescue
She swims hard
I see her wet tan arms
churning like a propeller
She grabs me
“Relax”€ť she orders.
I am limp
Back on the beach
gawkers circle
“Are you OK?”
“Yes” I mumble
“Yes yes yes”
2019-2023 Tom Stock.
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