Skip to content

The Library will be CLOSED on December 24, 25 & January 1 and will CLOSE AT 3PM on December 31.

Today's Hours:
The library is open today from 1pm - 5pm

My Account My Account

17: Sebastian Merrill

Queer Poem-a-Day is a program from the Adult Services Department at the Library and may include adult language.

To My Ghost :: Float

by Sebastian Merrill

Bound by rocky headlands, this northern coast is hard and sharp: few beaches greet the pounding surf. I paddle through an ocean studded with islands, each a small world in itself: Birch Island frames Little Harbor, the sheltered waters home to herons, cormorants, and eiders; Hay Island holds two hand-hewn houses; ospreys nest on the tip of Crow Island. I gentle my speed through the Thread of Life, watch the spring-born seal pups swim fearlessly alongside their cautious mothers. After paddling through the Thread, I land on Thrumcap Island’s rare beach. At high tide, the water shines turquoise above the creamy sand, a mix of stone and crushed shells: oysters, whelk, blue mussels, snails, and clams. I carry my boat high above the reaching waves, tear off my shirt, dive into the relentless sea.

Buoyed by the salt water, I float weightless and free until I no longer feel the cold. I emerge goose pimpled, lie on the sand to soak in the sun. As I drift toward sleep, a woman paddles onto the beach. I recognize her face, even though we haven’t seen her for ten years at least. You used to play kick-the-can with her and the other island girls. She doesn’t know me at first, and nervous, shy, I don’t offer a greeting. Until, with a flicker, she sees you within me. Is it you? she asks. I stand up fast, nod, cross my arms over my scarred, flat chest. It’s confusing, introducing myself to someone you knew. But she’s friendly enough, so we stand in the surf and watch the gulls wheel over the churning waves.

III. Here in this one place both you and I have lived, you luster, flash bright. I branch away from you then back then away. Tell me am I the fig and you the wasp? Am I sound and you Echo? Am I the pomegranate and you the seed?

Copyright © 2023 by Sebastian Merrill. This poem was originally published in GHOST :: SEEDS (2023).

About the Author

Sebastian Merrill
The poet Sebastian Merrill (USA), New York, New York, January 24, 2023. Photographer © Beowulf Sheehan

Sebastian Merrill’s debut collection GHOST :: SEEDS was selected by Kimiko Hahn as the winner of the 2022 X. J. Kennedy Poetry Prize, published by Texas Review Press in November 2023. A winner of the 2024 Stonewall Honor Book – Barbara Gittings Literature Award from the American Library Association, GHOST :: SEEDS was also selected by Ellen Doré Watson as the winner of the 2022 Levis Prize for Poetry from Friends of Writers. Sebastian’s poetry has appeared in The Common, Four Way Review, Diode Poetry Journal, wildness, and elsewhere. He holds an MFA in Poetry from Warren Wilson College and a BA from Wellesley College.

Queer Poem a Day graphic

Queer Poem a Day

Queer Poem-a-Day is directed by poet and professor Lisa Hiton and Dylan Zavagno, Adult Services Coordinator at the Deerfield Public Library. Music for this fourth year of our series is from the second movement of the “Geistinger Sonata,” Piano Sonata No. 2 in C Sharp Minor by Ethel Smyth, performed by pianist Daniel Baer. Queer Poem-a-Day is supported by generous donations from the Friends of the Deerfield Public Library and the Deerfield Fine Arts Commission.

Deerfield Public Library

Install Deerfield Public Library

Install this application on your home screen for quick and easy access when you’re on the go.

Just tap then “Add to Home Screen”

Accessibility Toolbar