Featured Poem: Bunnell’s Pond

By Virginia Nygard
Vero Beach Branch, Florida

 

The Pequonnock River wandered south

from Great Hollow Lake through Connecticut

until it paused to catch its breath at Sylvan Beach

and lolled about to swim with each of us

in Bunnell’s Pond at Beardsley Park

 

The first time we met I can’t recall

I was a tadpole of a year or two

safe in the water on Daddy’s broad shoulders

safe from the fearsome frivolity splashing around

so I’m told by fading photos on worn album pages

 

I recall favorite lunches Mama packed

egg and tuna sandwiches and fruit

lemonade and oatmeal cookies

all as wonderful as the day

except for the wait to swim after we ate

 

Then came the awkward years of ten or twelve or so

when we’d go by ourselves or in small groups

Swimming was not now the name of the game

It became popularity and cliques

and gave us a glimpse of the grownup world

 

Sylvan Beach is long since gone

swallowed by the state’s Route Eight,

but still the invincible Pequonnock flows

past hikers and fishermen and bikers

but there are no swimmers now in Bunnell’s Pond

5 comments

  1. Claire A Massey says:

    Wistful and moving. The poet expresses insights into the stages of life that ring clear and true. She expresses the universal longing we feel for that which is gone.
    Very skillfully executed.
    Claire Massey
    NALPW Poetry Editor

  2. Ginny,

    Love your poem :Burnell’s Pond,” so rich and warm and wonderful in memory. And I love you! I’m living back in Florida now and active in the Cape Canaveral branch.

  3. Janet Fagal says:

    Virginia,
    My husband is from Stratford and the Beardsley name is a family name. He also went to Bunnell HS. Small world. Your poem brings back memories. I bet you might have visited the wonderful Savin Rock park in West Haven. We have some longtime friends from there and have heard about it.

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