brown babe gull, black sails,
our last New England beach day
before the road home


brown babe gull, black sails,
our last New England beach day
before the road home


the Constitution
(a ship in Boston Harbor)
has won my man’s heart


a tavern lunch date
for our last family road trip
with all of our girls

all grown up, my girls
(they’ve been everywhere with us)
and soon they will fly

a windy beach day
followed by farmers’ market
for tonight’s dinner


this “bike path” presents:
sea-level cycling; beach
(rode on Rhode Island)


there’s seafood here, too.
and family filled with smiles
and gardening goals



they all want to know
(yet no one really wants to)
how much it hurts. Hurts.

it’s in a painting
the storm-washed sea, blue background
the broken cable

it’s in this beach day
(today’s my uncle’s birthday)
and we can’t go back

here we are, singing
because it’s all we can do
after the long drive
three states, three hours,
a short capital lunch break
before breaking waves




flowing stream, sun bath
is my picture-perfect beach
(dogs and drinks allowed)


more importantly:
teens jumping off the big rock
back to childhood

a forest cabin
three decades to say goodbye
to all that he built

you can’t understand
the traffic-less upstate life
till you’re on the road

the road with vineyards
and wineries everywhere
the empty lake roads

you can’t understand
waterfalls till you’ve seen these
cutting out gorges

if you knew, you’d know
just how perfect this place is
(it’s carved in sandstone)


but you’re not here, right?
so let me spill this clear view:
it’s a waterfall

it’s a waterfall
that feeds this glacial magic
(also named heaven)

carrying kayaks
down for a pup-and-paddle
oh the lake, the lake

