At the end of the Sound,
where the pines have been pushed back
by an unrelenting salt wind,
you will find that jingle-shell beach—
where little cups of pearly lemon peach
stretch out endlessly. Put your hands to them
and you will not know
where to stop.
So much beauty,
so much unrelenting jingle-chiming
beauty.
—L.L. Barkat, from The Novelist
T.S. Poetry Press, 2012
