Coming out from Carrabelle
South through the veering channel
Into Saint George Sound,
Past the weathered docks and sheds
Of the fishery with its pungent near-rot
Of salt and fish odors, and the unaccustomed
Stinging spray and hollow slap
Of the pummeled hull, sunglare
A white maze over the whipping awning,
I crouch, palest of landsmen,
Amid the strewn tackle and groceries,
Skull grinning into the wind.
—from "Dog Island"
South through the veering channel
Into Saint George Sound,
Past the weathered docks and sheds
Of the fishery with its pungent near-rot
Of salt and fish odors, and the unaccustomed
Stinging spray and hollow slap
Of the pummeled hull, sunglare
A white maze over the whipping awning,
I crouch, palest of landsmen,
Amid the strewn tackle and groceries,
Skull grinning into the wind.
—from "Dog Island"
The title poem of this book records a sojourn to a bridgeless small island off the Florida Panhandle. Reachable only by boat, Dog Island provides a quiet respite where Miami poet-artist Laurence Donovan contemplates the sea, sand, and sky and transforms them into words and etchings.
Donald Justice, in his foreword, calls Donovan "doubly gifted" in both his poetry and his art. This volume presents both, the latter in his etchings. He was also known for his linocuts, represented by the small scorpion at the end of the book.
