[179] Sailboats in Boothbay

Sailboats in Boothbay

She’s flying Downeast on the red eye from LA

What’s left of us, Adelade? The first sun is breaking on Cadillac Mountain But everything else is already broken The salted air of Bar Harbor never felt further Driving to Portland in the first dusting of snow

I missed you - but this bar’s all that remains We’re not twenty-one killing time in Blaine Drinking Lunch at the Rusty Crab We were restless as Spring tides Now our dreams have taken sides

I needed you here; you were lost in LA But spring always surrenders the sailboats to Boothbay The calm gives way to the cars in May Flatlanders sipping their whiskey and rye While we hide from the Fourth of July

I love you, Adelade – but maybe the tide’s gone out. Leaves turn bright but the color always fades I’ve been stuck in this harbor While you’ve been lost in Orange County Now the cars heading south leave the Rusty Crab empty

Adelade you’re not my tomorrow I’m not your yesterday Adelade you belong to LA