Home is where you all find

a place and a way

to fall asleep together.

I think mostly of the dog,

who chooses over his bed

the narrow space

between our bed and the wall

for the sake of being closer.

He starts and groans

and snores and smells.

I know my daughters are in their rooms,

and she is next to me,

so I can turn out the light

to let the darkness cover us,

and lie down

dreaming in my chosen place.

March 26 2022

Aquinnah

It has been a long walk to this lighthouse.

My mother pointed to it from the lookout.

I was young. There were no fences then,

but beach roses and poison ivy intervened,

and I had to run down the cliffs anyway.

For many years the eye was only

something that blinked, red and white;

a distant acquaintance coming into view

around the final bend in the road.

I was busy doing. I didn’t think of it.

Now my family is here,

and I can ask them to go with me.

There's a specific island triumph,

when you reach a place you have always seen

but could never get to before.

This is a bit like that.

It is surprising to find a lawn.

It is surprising to learn

that I could have visited years ago.

I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.

That’s all right.

You had other business.

I'm used to waiting.

You never know when someone will need you.

January 15 2022