Pickleweed Clan

By Dorothea Barth

Late summer the bay at Southampton
Glows blue like the lupines in spring
Gone are the currants and redbuds
In russet and gold the plants ring

Amidst this Pacific profusion
The Pickleweed clan builds its house
The sparrow and yellowthroat warbler
Along with the tiniest mouse

It’s named for the salt marsh harvest
The stealthy mouse hides during day
Unseen by coyote or shorebird
Bursts forth with the moonlight’s first ray

And lo, when the moon’s at its brightest
The Pickleweed pixies appear
The little brown mouse is their playmate
The pixies consider it dear

When dawn spills over the wetlands
In pink-petaled spring or in fall
They perk their ears while the mouse disappears
And as sentinels they stretch tall

All pixies and fey folk enchanted
Are wise to the wild’s cunning spin
But they warn to the hawk, snake, and red fox
Salt marsh harvest mouse is our kin!

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