Poetry Train Monday - 8 - Polly Cove

With yesterday being Canada Day, I was drawn to this poem about my favorite spot on earth. Polly Cove is just a little ways along the coast from Peggy's Cove in Nova Scotia. My dad and uncle used to go scuba diving on a wreck there, and my mom and aunt would hang out at the picnic blankets having chick time while my cousins, my sister and I would run around on the rocks. The coastline there is nothing but giant boulders and endless stretches of rock.

It's quite a trek from the road to the cove. Everyone had to carry supplies for the day, and the path wound down a very steep cliff. It's not merely a childhood-only place. It's a 45-minute drive from where I live, and I return every summer if I can. But my best memories are from those days when I could still run and leap over that incredible landscape.


Polly Cove

The slow dip
A seagull skims
The clouds slide

We leap from the crag
And the lichen springs

Below yawns the whispering seethe of the salt
The drop looks enticing

The lazy coil of the seaweed
A maid's demure flirtations

Behind us
Scraggling pines huddle
The cliff face

Far beyond
The frightening power
Of swelling froth

While here
The air skids to a stop
Your eyes look at me

And the sun snags in the tangly growth

Copyright Julia Smith 1985