Remains of the Day
Pat is a Hospice nurse.
These are her shoes.
Her straw hat.
An old Victorian umbrella from Stoner’s auction.
A vintage nun’s black bookbag.
Long cotton drawers from the general store at Muddy Creek Forks where I lived for a while.
Stones from the singing beach at the foot of Langmuir’s bluff.
A pair of leather sided riding glasses from Toronto.
Waves from the southern edge of Martha’s Vineyard.
If she had a chance to rest.
If there were an opportunity to put down the burdens of her calling.
If the ferry ran just one more midnight boat.
Then I know where I would find her.
Ankle deep at the water’s edge.
Lifting her cotton skirt
and with eyes closed
letting her sigh be carried out to sea.
You can consider yourself.