My arm smells like chlorine, I have swum in the pool

but I did not sit at the Duxbury Free Library nor

buy books at WestWinds Book Shop; they were closed.

The house owners are outside, planting impatiens

and summerizing their wood decked sailboat beside

the garage. It must feel strange to circumnavigate

the perimeter of your own house, but they owe us

what we paid for - privacy and primacy as the sun

greens the long lawn.

...
and then I lost my internet connection, but continued writing, and you know this was the best poem I've ever written and lost - so big, wider than my arms can reach and never another one like it in the vast vast ocean.