Tendrils of fog flirt with the far shore
Rain falls in fitful starts
Pinwheels whirl in the chill wind
On the empty boardwalk two marked metres measure
The distance from no one to no one,
Stretching endlessly away
Around the curve of the coast
Bravely painted houses cling in a thin scrim
Facing the absent ocean.
Hope springs, curled tight,
Springs and twangles,
Springs and hits the breastbone,
Bangs again and again into the closed heart
Wound tighter and tighter
And yet keeps on springing,
This time? This time?
No matter how you disappoint it
Hope springs eternal in the human heart.
The wind whips the fog
The waves beat the rocks
The world keeps turning
And hope uncoils tentatively
This time? This time…?
High above the sun breaks through
Illuminates a rock to ride triumphant above the breakers
The fog begins tatter and roll away
And hope keeps right on springing.
June 29th 2021 (on the way to Gaspesie)