Brenton and Coddington,
Easton and Sayer,
Clarke and Arnold,
Stanton and Thayer --
how fare you now,
and what remains
but your clapboard and cobble,
black iron, and names?
We know your seasons
as our own winter nears --
your toothaches and joys,
your brandy and fears.
The harbor still shines,
sun over Beavertail,
as when Weetamoe walked free,
and a lofty sail
coming from the sea
drew a crowd of boys.
~~~~~~~~~~
Douglas Logan
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