Here on the island it's almost surreal
how little's changed
in the seventy plus years
I've summered here
more boats in the lagoon
the chokecherry has grown
to where it blocks the view
the junipers
by the front door live on
only in memory
another generation has arrived
of grandchildren
in my case grandnephews
with fathers from Peru
and Senegal
so the family has become less waspy
than in my childhood
but the house itself
now in my sister's name
is much the same
with open rafters in the livingroom
the same sand and dirt driveway
on rainy days the same
puddle my grandson played in
thirteen years ago
when he was three
and other than the traffic
into town
the crowds of tourists
filing off the ferries
the ferryboats themselves
doubled in size
little has changed
myself included other than
the usual decline that comes
with reaching nearly eighty years
and the increasing gratitude I feel
for all the beauty
and wonder that surrounds me
all that's here