Author Information
Summer in New England
There’s sweet stillness in the swans on the cove,
Even in the cormorants diving down.
From the sanctity of a quiet grove
I drink it all in as my worries drown.
But as evening falls and the buoy sounds
That familiar longing always abounds.
Once the sailboats have drifted away,
The sun's final rays meandering through,
The tides and the porchlights seem to say
My summer in New England still needs you.
I turn up the speakers passing houses on the coast –
Something by Michael McDonald or Christopher Cross.
I can breathe salty air, journey all points easternmost,
But there will be no escaping this winter of loss.
By day the quiet brings love and light
But its steady hum slices the night.
Once the sailboats have drifted away,
The sun's final rays meandering through,
The tides and the porchlights seem to say
My summer in New England still needs you.
