My 5 day trip was full of activities. On my arrival, a long walk with friend D., an art opening packed with people, noise and art, dinner out. On the next day the Realtor took me on a tour of South Yarmouth and showed me four houses. Two I liked. One because it was a practical space although it was next door to a restaurant and close to a busy road. The second I liked as it was adorable, an old Cape Cod cottage but well kept and bounded by a marsh. However, both of these were out of my comfortable price range.
That evening folks arrived for the writers' retreat. Ten participated. We ordered pizza and discussed how to shape the weekend. Several slept over and others returned in the morning.
Saturday morning all was quiet as we 9 or so wrote. Lunch was panini made in panini makers. Then sharing of what we wrote, a walk. More writing and dinner out. Here is my weekend poem.
Turning this way and that
I look out on the world with three eyes
two blue, one glass.
With a clock of the button I capture
moss on stone, the lilacs in bud,
tire tracks in the snow.
I collect my treasures in a black box,
share, receive praise.
What have I accomplished?
Nothing I can hold. Ephemeral.
Ghostly. They contain my restless self,
my longing, a brief moment of
my brief life.
photos: top--a miniature poppy. middle--the nearby marsh. last--a festive table setting.