(Note: this is part of a much larger piece I am writing about leaving a small Maine town).
I said goodbye to all the ghosts who lived and died there
Connie and Bill
The dead husbands
The mother and son who gassed themselves in the garage
The young mother shot by a handyman 30 years ago
The father of nine who had died in the old white house
The tales of sea captains who roamed all the houses’ halls,
The woman’s shade who stood outside the Estate cottage
The chair that shook in the haunted library
The pale couple who once lived in the carriage house
now overrun by mice, gaping hole in the roof
The elaborate gateposts of forgotten mansions
that burnt years ago
The matted fur of the shivering terrier
tied up outside the hoarder’s house.
I began to forget what it was to be cut off from the world.
Alone in the Estate’s dark wood,
riddled with foundation holes as it was
I had no direction
“You could walk all the way to Richmond through these woods,” they said.
I walked there alone, and onward.