Still not diary entries, so here’s another poem from Green Mountain Echoes, inspired by Ella Fisher’s travel memories. She likes the word “adown.”
Your whispered word I scarecely heard
For my thought was far away,
I saw the slip of an outgoing ship
In the light of a summer day.
I heard the wind in the rigging sing
And I watched the line of spray,
That followed close in the wake of her
As she sailed adown the bay.
You smiled at me but I did not see,
A memory between us came,
Of a garden alight on a moonlit night
Like a picture in a frame.
The beckoning gleam of friendly lights
Where a ship in the harbor lay;
A smooth white road that winds afar
On the shore of Naples Bay.
Your whispered word I might have heard
But the years have rolled between,
And flowers are laid where your grave is made
With the grass above it green.
The shadow that hid your smile from me
In the light of a summer day,
Was a long, long stretch of smooth white road
That winds ‘round Naples Bay.