Each dilapidated in a different way—
half-patched roof, porch sagging,
two sideboards painted five different shades
of purple to test out for a season a choice
that may cause any number of arguments—
or not, nothing in this town requiring permanence
or beauty except for what already is:
red-breasted blackbird, deep-diving loons,
a lake that boasts “best place to live in,”
luring tourists and hard-core hikers
with its calm lap and cliffside trails
that everyone in town has hiked most of
at one time or another before settling in
to the partly fixed homes on the dead-end
dirt road off the main street, where we are
heading now toward the old general store
to pick up extra granola before veering sharply
to Pleasant Street and a mild climb past roadside pines
and the extravagant vacation homes, also partly
under construction, with balconies, decks, gazebos—
the better to see by—the ones you probably
think by now are ours but aren’t.