We met Clivens when he was 10 years old. Our schooner Charlotte was anchored in Port Morgan on Ile a Vache, Haiti.

The beach where shore and ocean meet / Horizon far too far to know / Page to turn, margin to mark / List that notes to-do and done / Evening news and how it’s spun.

It came in an official looking envelope with a yellow border. It contained my notice to report for jury duty.

You walk into the room, a look of confusion on your face and say, “Mom, there’s this girl trying to talk to me on Facebook. I don’t know who she is but she says she’s my sister.”

’Twas Christmas Eve and Santa Claus / Was on his annual trip / By reindeer from the cold North Pole / ’Twas not, of course, by ship, / For his landing place this year, / “Aquinnah,” Santa said, / But the reindeer saw no light at all / As usually they had / When in the past he’d chosen it.

The Island lost a truly great soul with Janet Messineo, a legendary fisherperson, amazing artist and a uniquely kind person.