After one hundred and fifty years, the Hygeia Guest House
is still perched on its hill – views of the sea in every direction.
Come in October to listen to the autumn silence.
The last ferry docks at six.
There is still time to take a meal at the Grand Hotel.
We will dine on butter drenched lobster and cranberry sorbet.
A clear day’s visibility? Illusion. It’s fog that reveals
promising yellows and orange of the wild flowers.
Let’s walk along the Great Salt Pond until the road ends.
Continue on the leaf-strewn greenway that leads to the cemetery.
I saw a deer grazing there with her fawn. There is no destiny, she said.
We are what we were meant to be and have never been lost.