Oblong stones sink
slow and sideways. Shaped
by the weight of waves,
dutifully vibrating nature’s
lunar-bound graces,
they wash ashore only for
closed palms to forsake them.
The cheerful will
cherish them, place them
on windowsills, or on graves.

There are lawyers here on Cape Cod who only want to take your money.

what if there was an uncanny moment when all the birds were grounded from Cape Town to Juneau, and everywhere between--all feathers frozen in a universal stutter, so quick as to make a snail of light, and even Stephen Hawking's mind would miss it?

That's going to be a big burden for Cape Cod employers.

We go there every summer, and I wanted it [the design] to have a Cape Cod connection.

Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore, so do our minutes, hasten to their end.