Boothbay Harbor

The thick musk smell of the bowling lanes,
seeping out past brown paint walls,
overpowers all others, makes one reel and choke,
sends them fleeting just next door.
The tiny window set in yellow,
squares of fudge laid out for sale,
rocky road, peanut butter, wintergreen,
pale next to the chocolate bliss,
and the taffy puller, going 'round,
sweeps you in through the door.
Saltwater perfection, pure and fresh,
watermelon, peanut butter, grape and lime,
chocolate fudge and lemon taffy,
it just might last you through the day.
Continue on, the ground transforms,
gray cement to tan slats of wood.
Ocean air rolling past your skin,
tinted with salt and seaweed and something more.
A painted sign will pull you in,
for more chocolate bliss in frozen form,
chocolate cream and chocolate chips,
piled high with gummi bears.
More painted signs, more stores to look at,
Wale Watch, Seagulls, a Smiling Cow,
out from Gimbel's, back on a road,
in at Enchantments, the old red barn,
great chimes ringing, incense burning.
Down the road too the used book store,
more musty smells though not quite as bad.
Stop in at Orne's for some more sweets,
then up the hill, set apart from the others,
beautiful carvings from Island Teak.
Now back down, back through the town,
past more stores, more temptations,
past people chatting, dog barking, seagulls crying.
Tan wood ground, now long and narrow,
the boardwalk spanning across the harbor.
Seagulls, more than you could count,
line the roof with its chimney,
and the boots sticking out.
Up along on the churchyard's wall,
and down again where in sinks into the ground.
First a left, and then a right,
up the hill dubbed Lobster Cove.
The tiny driveway and the impossible steps,
going down and down to the door
of the green-roofed house built on the cliff-side,
with its magnificently wonderful ocean view.