at the UN
they beat their tongues and jawbone
loud clang of anvils

the honored dead--
in life they were less so
markers for slaves' tombs

fall's already here--
I know, I looked it up
no one told the sun

gray morning sky
gray oystermen as well
a rocky beach

a young woman at the beach

she plants her crutches
firmly in the wet sand
-- her smiling face