No Fireworks, no Fair, no Illumination

No house too full with each generation.

No gin-and-tonic, no Bloody Mary,

No dash down-Island to meet the ferry.

No riding the swells beyond the breakers,

No guilty praise for the Pie Chix bakers.

No feverish sharing of Island lore

(“Who saw which Gyllenhall at the Chilmark store?!”)

No oohing and ahhing about the Perseid showers

No one to admire the garden’s flowers.

No swimsuits on the line in various sizes,

No staying up until the sun rises.

No sandcastles, no midday dozes,

No rushing to the Galley before it closes

No swordfish on the grill cooked just right,

No sunset picnics on Menemsha Bight.

No Sharks baseball, no Bill Murray,

No “You’ll miss your ferry if you don’t hurry.”

No Artisan’s Fair, no Flea Market,

No thoughts about the car and where we’ll park it.

No s’mores, no bubbles, no beach sticker,

No drive to Oak Bluffs to get the liquor.

No “Oh, Shit” card games, so hard-fought

No one to eat all the fish we caught.

No Chilmark Road Race, no “Who’s the winn-ah?”

No banana cream pie at The Aquinnah.

No lobster clambake on the lawn,

No “Where has all that great food gone?”

No little kids in the hammock playing,

No wondering where everyone’s staying.

No Liz Lemon, no Prince of Wales,

No kayaks, no clamming, and no sunset sails.

No shared admiring of Island views,

A whole new meaning for “Menemsha blues.”

In this empty summer what gets us through

Are all these memories we made with you,

And the certainty the day will dawn

When we will make new ones to carry on.