Sonnet: On Meeting You for a Weekend on Martha’s Vineyard

Image by Susan O’Leary via Pixabay

Once more you’re left alone; I’m on a plane.
My work takes me to Boston several days,
Or more each month.  And while you don’t complain,
I know you hate the time I spend away.
Still, this goodbye was easier than most:
You’re meeting me to share some time alone
Together on the Massachusetts coast.
Our inn was once a whaling captain’s home;
How fitting we should meet within these walls
That saw those lovers share their sad goodbyes.
I wonder, did his lady’s teardrops fall?
Or hide, like yours, sequestered in her eyes?
These scenes repeat, partings without end,
And I am bound to you, like the sailor to his friend.

About William Stubblefield

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