The Two Naturalists Poem by Don Winslow

The Two Naturalists

Rating: 5.0


We knelt together, me at 80, she at 3,
Both looking in my pail,
A pail of tidal water filled with salt marsh creatures.

I led her hand to pick up a clam.
She held it, turned it over and over,
And smiled- a beaming, radiant smile.

How could she smile?
I hadn’t told her yet about Mercinaria, Mercinaria,
About its’ life span, reproduction, and value to the Marsh.

I placed a little baitfish in her palm.
She giggled as it wriggled back into the pail,
And smiled- a freeform, joyous smile.

How could she smile?
I hadn’t told her yet about Menidia, Menidia,
What it eats, and what eats it.

Now it was her turn.
She reached down and put a tiny grain of sand in my hand,
Looked up at me, and waited, patiently.

She waited for me to look as she would look,
No words, no books, no cataracts on the mind,
Just a simple “what is”, clear and uncluttered

I now saw what she saw in that piece of quartz,
A world of worlds, an infinity of infinities.
In silence we looked at each other—and smiled.
.------

I recently found a picture from 2005 of a little girl “helping” me examine some clams, mussels, fish, etc. that I had just collected. Looking at it I wondered how I had communicated with her. This poem is the result

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sue S. 19 January 2010

Now, that is one poem that I wish I had written. Lovely: 0)

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