Transformations, poetry

Harold Garde: Day at the Beach

Sun, 01/31/2016 - 7:30pm

Into red waters
the sun itself dissolves
They frolic on sand
gathering towels like memories
to capture and contain
a good day

There will be traffic
automobiles slow pacing each other
more pulse than push.
one hand on the steering wheel
she rests the other lightly on his leg
capturing the linger of beach heat.

The friend and his woman asleep in the back seat
He reads license plates
DUCM 37, Do you see Me 37.
B4UR, Before you are, before you are what?
before I am what?

always the same, a long drive,
too much busy, so many things need doing
too much waiting. Messages, messages

Oh. And what am I?
Before what,
before I am dead and gone forever
before I am old, worn out and decrepit
before I can become
the whatever it is that I am

Harold GardeHarold Garde splits his time between Belfast, Maine, and New Smyrna Beach, Fla. He is a painter with work in permanent museum and significant private collections. He is the subject of several art films that have been broadcast on Public Television in Florida, Maine and Wyoming, including one in the ongoing Maine Masters series. His play, The Rec Room, was selected and performed in the Maine Fifteen Minute Play competition and later at the Atlantic Center for the Arts in Florida. In addition, a solo exhibition of his art work just concluded at the Orlando Museum of Art in Florida.


We tell stories.
We tell stories to make sense of our lives.
We tell stories to communicate our experience of being alive.
We tell stories in our own distinct voice. Our own unique rhythm and tonality.

Transformations is a weekly story-telling column. The stories are written by community members who are my students. Our stories are about family, love, loss and good times. We hope to make you laugh and cry. Maybe we will convince you to tell your stories.
— Kathrin Seitz, editor, and Cheryl Durbas, co-editor

"Everyone, when they get quiet, when they become desperately honest with themselves, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there." — Henry Miller

Kathrin Seitz teaches Method Writing in Rockport, New York City and Florida. She can be reached at Cheryl Durbas is a freelance personal assistant in the Midcoast area. She can be reached at