Rabbit Rock

In remembrance

Rabbit Rock.

(for Christine, Annmarie, Karen and Evelyn. And Scotty and Pat)

Image: Author’s own

This morning

under gray somber skies

(opposite

those misleading blue ones of

long

ago)

we made our way down

steep hillside –

the autumn brush still sprouting

hope in the form of

purple balloon flower and

fall

crocuses.

At the water,

we stood for a while,

taking in its

glassine surface

rippled only by

the periodic

disturbance

of fish.

There, on the dock,

I sent out wishes for

Pat and for

Scotty,

for all the unknown

loved ones who

never came

home

that

day,

and to those

to whom,

they never returned.

Amongst four other

beautiful

and powerful

women,

I stood in

silence

remembering,

until,

across the harbor,

a siren cut through the air,

signaling it was time to

move on.

So we did, lowering

ourselves in,

stroking peacefully

out toward the large-masted sailboat

swaying indecisively in the

shifting current,

out toward the barely-visible

tip of

Rabbit