Sweet Harbour Home

From another country, we came after a dream.
Our money multiplied in the translation.
We bought an island and built a house there
and had money left over for power and telephone lines.
The phoning was mostly long distance, however.
We didn't know what to say to the locals and no wonder.
Their cars were older than our children.
All right yes there was one and there was an affair
and it was probably good. They didn't marry
and the villagers were glad and so were we.
We all got along famously after that and
oh my God were even invited to church.
I'm sorry, the years rolled by on their conveyor belt
and names got dropped off in the process
so I can't tell you whose mistake it was.
Every summer was magical though.
The villagers bled music and were wounded every day.
The ocean view that was our dream became our life.
Who cares about the godforsaken details?
One day we died. In our will, we forgot to include
who should have the miraculous sunsets and dawns.
Our children only wanted money anyway
and were taught to be practical and disparage their dreams.
The waves, the wounds, the wonder all piled up
like debris on the shore of what once was
our sweet harbour home.

6 October 2017
Texas Jim
Prospect, Nova Scotia
www.granitecoast.ca