When I walk through Gloucester, it’s like day-tripping through time;

whether down by the docks, or out along the back shore,

or up along Main Street, Middle Street or in Dogtown,

Eastern Point, Lanesville or, more to the point, Rocky Neck.


One afternoon in July, camera in hand, I headed out

Rocky Neck Avenue cloaked in the peace of Smith Cove

and the universe of color, texture and form  in

the galleries, shops and displays  all along the way.


As I approached Alma McLaughlin’s gallery and

raised my camera to my eyes, I was surprised to

find that time had been reversed and the last hundred years

on the Neck had vaporized; it was as it had been.


But the strangest part of this sight and gentle afternoon

was that I was not alone on Rocky Neck Avenue,

visiting the old sites and scenes of a century past.

Like a lantern dimly lit, a woman  came in view

and joined me on my  serene trip through time.


We did not speak, but both briefly paused to appreciate

the bright creations that adorned the walls of the gallery

that could be seen through the orderly glass-paned store front;

in a building,  on a street,  we had come so far to see.


© Marty Luster 2011