I have gathered the roses, I have 
tucked the brown bottle in my purse, I have
pocketed my mournful verse.

Maybe you think love is snapshots glued
on acid-free paper, bound
in embellished vacation-themed scrapbooks

I have put on my life vest, and climbed 
into the camp boat, facing 
the wilderness, and motored out

into the sunset. I have crossed the still-water and leaned
over the frame. 
I have emptied

Into the Great Pond 

© Deborah Garcia 2022, All rights reserved

About this poem

Our family has been vacationing the same week in August in the Belgrades, ME, since 1999. “This is the best place on Earth,” my boys always said. One year ago this week, my surviving son and I released some of my son’s ashes in the cove at his favorite fishing spot.

5 Comments on “VACATIONLAND”

    • BSC is part of our being. A room in our home. A bookmark in our story. Presently, the sandy cove on the northern heel of Great Pond is a holding space for me. Maybe new memories will find us tending little fires under the stars.
      Thank you for reading peg!

  1. I like how you contrast the phony vacation-themed memories, embellished like a product to be consumed in a photo album, and memories that empties you into a deep pond, as you face wilderness, the deep pond being beyond all that, facing the true being, the true self.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: