“Maine islands, spruce- clad, glacier-scarred rocks, pebble beaches, quiet coves…”

Maine islands, spruce-clad, glacier-scarred
Rocks, pebble beaches, quiet coves, throttle
Back on outboard, tide drifting, wind on
Face, in hair, voice in tree-depths, “I am
Here, time forgotten.” At first ignored,
Few sips of thermos coffee, sandwich bite,
Summer afternoon, cruising waters dark-
Deep. “Come closer, look overboard.”
In still shallows, reflection discerned,
Face vaguely recognized, another self,
Mirrored from misty past to present day.

Turned toward gauzy light tree obscured,
“Who are you?” Hovering towards me, I
Felt winter cold, fingers and toes, breath
Steaming, water-soaked girl frozen into
lifelessness on ocean-facing shores. Boat
Beached, into trees stepped, she approached,
Receded, both surprised we were face-to-face.
“I am you, previous self. Ever wonder why
You come here, wind-drifting?” She was
Right. “Who are you?” before hovering
Shade answered, I knew: Rebecca.

“It was the end of everything,” Rebecca
Stated, memories of 19th century packet
Ships Portland bound, Irish immigration,
Winter shipwrecks. “Come look.” Through
Thick spruces I shifted, thicket overgrown,
Black leather shoes, leg bones emerging,
Hips and vertebrae, delicate-face skull,
Teenage girl I realized. “Take me with
You,” Rebecca said, pleading as much as
Insisting. Into outstretched wind-breaker,
I collected all of her as could be found.

“Girl in Kerchief,”Alexey Venetsianov, WikiArt.

Bones bundle-bound, summer’s declining
Light, we sat quietly on beach together.
“What’s next?” I asked, self-comforted,
Body-soul rhythms returned. “Take me
home.” By three words, I understood. That
Evening, I placed towel-wrapped bones and
Lace-up leather shoes in box under bed,
Glass of wine, to sleep I drifted, souls amongst
Maine islands, winter storms, death viewed
Without fear or pain, two souls reunited,
I found missing part of self.

For more about historical Maine shipwrecks, see this link:

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