The back of Monhegan rises
Over a hundred feet above the sea
Like a bit of wild Ireland
I am partway down
A series of climbable ledges
Picking up shards of glass
Green and amber and clear splinters
Of what's left of beer bottles
That were lobbed from the top of the cliff
After the beer was finished
From the top of the cliff
The whole Atlantic Ocean
Spreads out to infinity
With the United States behind me
I can picture each bottle
Arcing and free-falling
And exploding out of sight on the rocks
And when I am sitting on that cliff
I am in a place that is its own place
I am free
To let myself be lulled by the waves
That break on the rocks like glass
And are pulled back by the sea
To become waves again
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