After 30 years they finally bulldozed
The old family homestead and instead erected
Hundreds of luxury condominium town houses
And a man-made marina
In place of the graceful lawn
Up from the beach where we ran
Barefoot in the dew early mornings
Down to the pier to look for crabs
Clinging to the dark pilings.
Now $450,000 apartments on unrecognizable land
As I sit in the sand of Chandler and Arnold’s beach
Musing about time, the devouring shark.
Arnold drowned. Grandma and Grandpa are no longer.
I felt their presence today
Wandering the streets of Annapolis
Maryland Avenue and the State Circle.
That little Japanese Maple is a big tree
Now, its branches reach
Out to the Chesapeake where I would play
With my brothers and cousins
All through the golden years of childhood
Until we grew up and moved across the world
While our grandparents grew old
And the land was sold
Again and again.
Now it’s hard to figure where our house used to be
But the sound of waves coming in is the same
And the small first flat rock that I take and toss
Skipping over the water
Lifts me to a timeless memory:
My mother and her sisters married here.
My brothers and I were raised here.
What’s been done here
Is profitable at last, but not so lovely.
This very beach! Where you are now
Bill Davis who helped me build a kayak from a kit
Took me kayaking and camping until a Northeaster drove is
Home so fast our arms ached from paddling.
And you Professor Stryker, you beautiful old man
Who knew everything except you burned your house down
From smoking and died in the blaze.
I’m beginning to understand
Aging.
When you grow old
Old friends are memories
The generation just before is a memory too.
The heart overflows
Like a tide coming in.
This warm sand feels good on my toes.
Strange to see grey townhouses along the beach
Jutting out to the water’s edge.
A million dollar real estate adventure
with Jaguars and Porsches
And Mercedes Benz sedans
On asphalt parking spaces
Laid over the grass I played ball on
With Mark and Diane and Ritchie.
I want to run and find someone I used to know
But the old people are dead
And the rest have moved away.
Don’t they know there are stinging nettles
In this bay and the water is tepid in August?
These people are paying too much
for their waterfront property.
I remember our Labrador swimming circles around Mom
Barking when she went for a dip heavily pregnant with Joel
Now Jayadeva with five children of his own.
Some early evenings
When it was very peaceful
Grandpa would walk down the gentle gradient
And swim for a while in the Chesapeake Bay.
