Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry

The sale did not capture attention
until the Public Notice
…. Ltd sought to notify – a change in land designation.

A petition and meeting
impassioned returnees spoke of migration
to sand
to tide
to high sun
to the same place and same temporary family.
Returning year pursued by year
to tent cities
to skiing on water
to insect repellent tainted sandwiches
to those vacation sounds
transistor cricket, swing ball thud, children shrilling umpire bias
to never cold enough beer
and always too few days.

The company said they understood
it was a beautiful part of the country.
They suggested the petitioners purchase
one of the finished ocean view homes
a million dollars cheap for prime coastal real estate.

Late Friday afternoon
the wedding tomorrow
a busy day for Kate mother of the groom.
to do list
all ticked
except the photographer.
Deposit paid, time confirmed
at home in the morning
pictures of the family – before five becomes six.

Transaction completed
relief catalyses cheerful banter
and false promise
“they can do it all themselves next time”
farewell.

She stepped out of the shop
over the pavement
onto the street
into the traffic … and eternity.

For the back story click Backstage
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Friendship was almost a decade old
before we shared our dreams.
By then we had shared a house
tents, music, books and prejudices.
Chance broke the seal – an uncensored remark.

A ten day walk around an island
south of the world’s southernmost city.
A winter’s trip in the summer of our lives
expected beauty
and unexpected closeness – the perihelion of our friendship.
Conceived as distraction from careers
an opportunity to add to memory
what been a forgotten part of our country
before guidebooks and adventure tourists
turned wilderness into compulsion.

On the last day the circle is complete
a return to the starting point
finishing along a wind ruffled road
city reticence not yet reclaimed.

A sigh about returning to work
“ it means nothing to me.”
He is surprised. Me too – my employer highly regarded.
A pause
and “ you have someone to return to.”
It was his dream he said to have someone
to live in a loving partnership.
Unexpectedly he asked about mine.
to be a writer I confide.

When our dreams were visible
the comet of friendship had circled the sun.
Memory could plot its path
the eye could never find it.