Camp-Meeting Grounds Martha's Vineyard 2009

Summer lay lazily over the land. The languid weight of wind and water bowing tree limbs, chasing sand squalls over sidewalks. Cyclist meander down aisles of Rose of Sharon shrubbery past banks of day lilies and Pez-purple hydrangeas. Tourist, colorful as the flowers, buzz through seaside shops in flip flops the color of Necco wafers. Their gummy soles making sucking sounds upon the linoleum. In gingerbread slumber like fairy-tale children, they gather in pink, lime-green, and purple houses. The poor of a Christian God have become the rich of a capitalist nation. They hoard their paper-lantern dream.