This is an original poem that was included in my submission for poet laureate.  It attempts to walk the reader through some of our city's unique history.  It is a free verse poem, meaning that it does not have a consistent rhythm or rhyme scheme, but rather splices in various literary elements to fit the feeling of the poem.  If you have never written poetry before, a free verse poem might be a swell place to start, because you do not have to worry about cadence, measure, or rhyme.  Instead, you just write from your heart (or your head) and let the ink flow.  If you have any examples of your own free verse poetry, please feel free to share.  This one was inspired watching the waves crash together and create little vortices from our own beach.  Watching the reflections swirl and play reminded me of Van Gogh's Starry Night painting.  Then, I could not help but think of all the prior occupants of our town seeing similar images playing on the ocean's surface, but with vastly different reflections.  Happy writing!

A Past Reflected in Our Souls
As Starry Night swirled in the ocean that day 
We passed the afternoon playing in the waves 
Emerge with darkened skin, resting near the dune grass 
Drying with the cool wind and warm rays
Between the shoreline and the chaparral
The brackened border of sea weed
Trodden by the gamboling images of Ais
Waving welcoming sharpened swamp reed
We adopt their namesakes, anglicized
What we don’t erase, we steal
We adopt their skills, survival prized
All but the memories, we kill
We honor them unknowingly with long hair and tattoos
Most abundant during the breaks from schools
Spanish ships approaching from the East
On shore, its sailors see the living cane plantation
After many trials, cultures befriended
Even though the Ais rejected Catholic salvation
Still, we can sleep soundly on these souls
Because neither today here remain
At least not in the flesh-formed whole
Through their efforts, no lasting gain
The sought-after fountain hid in plain sight
In the air, water, land, and light

The Freemen came to build homes

Later, rock shrimp filled all the boats
Fishermen flocked to the port in droves
Seashells dreamt of being born jetty stones
Harvard hunters soon came and then went
As reporters from the city settled in
Captain Burnham’s light flashed across the Eastern sky
Journalista failed and Avon By the Sea shines
A tycoon built on news, a harbinger of port
And Eberwein’s peafowl plumage fanned the town
As the squelching screeching showcased silence of a sort
The water loved lapping the shoreline down

Subsonics shook the station to the north 
Gravity no longer maintains its ceaseless hold 
Exploration begins here and we sally forth 
Beyond frigid wars to watch the galaxy unfold 
With the wonder of an abecedarian
We watch as launches still carry on
For a while, the President’s name on the post
But that lacked agreement from the hospitable hosts
The canopy of high-rises hides the hopeful sky
Watching Port’s ignorant, ill-planned over-industrialization
We continue to strive, more than a drive
To survive, we relentlessly thrive
Build on solid rock, we have all heard this cry
But this sand offers the best true foundation
Come now, all shepherdless lambs
With bated breath, we wait on knees and hands
Leave your footprints on the sand
Strand yourself on this adoring land
Fractured centuries leading to now
Our trestle’s large enough for a crowd
A populace, peculiar and proud

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