How can I bear to leave this place,
take the next boat out into the harbor,
pass the buoy, toss
a penny into the water for a return?
How can I bear leaving after 39 years —
built my own house, planted my garden,
tall-trees design, skylight to watch the evening sky,
see the night flight plane lights
blinking their way across the sea.
But I must leave after 39 years,
so many reasons.
The only words that make sense are:
“I shall return.”
— Ruth Twichell Cochrane
May 7, 2008