Island Light: Wait, Spring
Main street, Edgartown is decorated with April blooms.
Main street, Edgartown is decorated with April blooms.
Iconic spring scene along North Road in Chilmark.
Iconic spring scene along North Road in Chilmark.
Water is running at Chilmark's Fulling Mill Brook.
Water is running at Chilmark's Fulling Mill Brook.
White heron in the shallows of Sengie.
White heron in the shallows of Sengie.
Brave swimmers tested the water temp with an April dip at South Beach.
Brave swimmers tested the water temp with an April dip at South Beach.
Watching the waves at Katama.
Watching the waves at Katama.
Just grazing in West Tisbury.
Just grazing in West Tisbury.
Enjoying the warming rays of the sun mid month.
Enjoying the warming rays of the sun mid month.
Edgartown harbor finger piers under cloudy skies.
Edgartown harbor finger piers under cloudy skies.
All is calm.
All is calm.
Pheasant on the Katama great plains.
Pheasant on the Katama great plains.
Wearing a coat of rust.
Wearing a coat of rust.
Tisbury Wharf offers a jolt of color under an otherwise foggy morning.
Tisbury Wharf offers a jolt of color under an otherwise foggy morning.
Fishing netting in Menemsha.
Fishing netting in Menemsha.
Two herons converge in Lobsterville.
Two herons converge in Lobsterville.
Kevin Gunderson works as the runway is painted at the airport.
Kevin Gunderson works as the runway is painted at the airport.
Unofficially the first poet laureate of the Island was Dionis Coffin Riggs, who began hosting a poetry group at the Cleaveland House in West Tisbury in 1960. The Martha’s Vineyard Poet Laureate Society is looking for the Island’s next poet laureate. Applications will be accepted through April 26. Visit tinyurl.com/poetmv for more information. Here is Dionis’s poem Wait, Spring, which was published in the April 19, 1996 Gazette:
Spring, do not come too early, Wait until the heartwood Is twisted and made gnarled By the gale. A young tree, blooming, shivers In returning cold. Even the yellow spice-bush withers And grows pale.
Spring, hold back the sun, Hold back the gentle rain, Let the wind blow greedy Gusts against the branches Until the treetops rattle And the buds are hard. Wait, spring, till the earth is ready For the flowering.
— Dionis Coffin Riggs