North Fork
I don’t want to drive back.
It will be dark.
It will be Sunday.
Each landmark
that once meant distance from
will now mean closer to.
Houses aloof with
their posture and color.
Collapsing sheds;
ceilings sinking into rooms.
Lanky machinery—
coils attached to rods.
Maybe they bring water
Maybe they move
Across the fields
that flank the single lane
funneling me
to island’s end.… Read the rest