Emily Pauline Johnson

(10 March 1861 – 7 March 1913 / Chiefswood, Ontario)

Low Tide At St. Andrews - Poem by Emily Pauline Johnson

(NEW BRUNSWICK)

The long red flats stretch open to the sky,
Breathing their moisture on the August air.
The seaweeds cling with flesh-like fingers where
The rocks give shelter that the sands deny;
And wrapped in all her summer harmonies
St. Andrews sleeps beside her sleeping seas.

The far-off shores swim blue and indistinct,
Like half-lost memories of some old dream.
The listless waves that catch each sunny gleam
Are idling up the waterways land-linked,
And, yellowing along the harbour's breast,
The light is leaping shoreward from the west.

And naked-footed children, tripping down,
Light with young laughter, daily come at eve
To gather dulse and sea clams and then heave
Their loads, returning laden to the town,
Leaving a strange grey silence when they go,--
The silence of the sands when tides are low.


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Read poems about / on: august, silence, laughter, summer, children, dream, red, lost, light, sea, sky, sleep, swimming, memory, child



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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