A poem by Joan Sorich
Sunday evening arrives…the weekend draws to a close.
Ferry and train schedules have been synchronized.
Dishes are washed, everything is in its place.
Lights are out, …Doors, soon to be locked.
Looking around and listening…
Fireflies and frenzied mosquitoes dance to the music and lyrics
of the night on the now empty porch…
where we once sat drinking wine as the hours fell silent. Then…
…breathing in the day’s memories, we tumbled into our beds
on sheets moistened with the warm mist of the night’s sea air.
These fluid memories remain after the weekend,
and fill the corners of my mind with light-filled hope…
…of connections and belonging, love and laughter,
conversations of naught, or grand plans and pursuits.
We buoyed each other’s spirits as we imbibed spirits…
…on the dock at sunset.
Now…doors are locked. Walking to the Ferry we release
our joy-filled memories into the clean ocean air,
leaving with remnants of the beach in our shoes,
thoughts of the work week ahead, and…
….expectations of new memories that will dawn
at week’s end…on the now empty porch.
For JLP, AP, and RVR in Fair Harbor
Memories captured in watercolor, pastel and conte crayon,
July 2003-August 2019
Captured in words, early 2013-August 2019
