ROCKPORT'S DAWN

In a welter of waves
a chorus of birds
nestled on green waters
sheltering on a raft of rocks
where my kayak rests
near fallen branches
at the northeaster wind's
spoken woolly dawn
here a poet's open door
closes for an outside read
by a tree-trunk of words
my spirit catches up
after a thousand mile run
as an oak looses acorns
on crimson leaves
for a trial marathon.