SOMETHING LEFT BEHIND IN A PLACE YOU’VE NEVER BEEN
Winter Prompt #27
I left two novels.
I left five collections of poems
and scripts for six plays. I left
an article about conodonts
and a treatise on the rights of women.
I left them on that island in Maine—
I can never remember its name—
it was a two hour ferry ride—
where I didn’t live
in a small, low house in a meadow.
Not right on the shore since I couldn’t
afford it, but a short walk to the rocks
where I didn’t sit with my notebook
and my thermos of coffee
early every morning
whenever the weather permitted.
I left a few pottery bowls there, too,
a cello, a field of daffodils,
and in the shallow soil the buried bones
of a couple of dogs I loved.
Oh, and a little lilac bush that didn’t
amount to much because of the wind.