Moonlight and Quicksand: A Book of Poetry

By Wayne Trebbin M.D.

Moonlight and Quicksand is a collection of poems all written by the author and all designed to be evocative to the heart and stimulating to the mind. The poems range from cheerful to dark (hence the book's name). They vary in their style in the hopes that each will be seen as the fresh piece of work that they are. It is the author's hope that this book will bring to its readership the intellectual and spiritual beauty that poetry can convey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664143340

Wayne Trebbin M.D.

“Dr. Trebbin trained in Nephrology at the Massachusetts General Hospital after which he worked as an academic and clinical nephrologist. During his career he has held appointments at three medical schools. He created an HIV prevention program in the Hispanic community of Salem Massachusetts, and founded a non-profit corporation that built dialysis units for the poor in Africa and Latin America making certain no financial burden was placed on the patients that were cared for. Dr. Trebbin’s interests have included skiing, sailing, pencil sketching and mountain climbing. In addition he has a second degree black belt in karate with an instructer’s patch; and, of course, he has a love of poetry.”

Book preview

A Flower From the Kanaret

A flower from a tree, taken for its beauty,

Its petals linking life in constant flow.

Sun and earth gave it life held oh too briefly;

The Kaneret gave it joy’s song from our past.

And pressed inside my book, it became a legend,

And whispers of the past from which it came.

At Galilee it bound the spirit of our greatness

It gently now reminds me of the day

When sunshine kissed it in the morning cleansed by misting,

And dry it tells in wordless ways the tale

Of living men and women and their passing,

A people with a soul that knows no end.

A Ghost’s Tale

The wind mill turned a creaking sound.

The fog and night each other found.

The silence stifled mortal breath,

And in my brain screamed the voice of death.

Their fractured song a message sent

A raucous sound of malcontent.

Those specters danced a death song’s ball,

And when they leaped I prayed they’d fall.

Then they began to look at me.

The fog so thick, so hard to see.

Then cold wet hands gripped me tight

Their dampness now exploding fright.

Though I fought they moved me off.

Their fetor made me choke and cough.

Their hideaway a damp stone room,

And in that place I found my doom

A Late Summer’s Lesson

It was a day in August; it was full with heat and haze

It had been preceded by a week of equal days.

I was walking down a road, sweat upon my brow.

There was quite a distance yet and I was wondering how

I could muster energy to reach my home my goal.

Walking in the heat and sweat can draw a wicked toll.

The clouds began to cluster mounting darkness in the sky.

There were no birds singing now and a fresh breeze skittered by

I moved up my pace a bit; the storm was on its way.

It was coming on quite fast, but when I couldn’t say.

A thunderous crash made me jump. My heart would leave my chest.

Next