One Art On Seal Harbour

"My favourite villanelle's for sale."
I just wanted to see if they got it,
A literary joke. How much one guy
In powder blue Bermudas asks.
Is it the one...you know near to...
The bridge? (I finish) No: she lost that,
Lost everything. Stoic really.
What did she lose. Her house?
Houses. Her mother's watch. Everything.
He sips, says the Pinot is young.
Well bungalows are not selling.
People with kids are not buying.
They come to play not stay (grins)
And touches my wrist for emphasis.
I guess, I say. She lost it years ago
Now (he says) he might buy a salt box
Of the right vintage as an investment.
Well not these I say in a darker tone
They're on a cheerless island years away,
Farther than Ile au Haut.
And here's the thing, they are only good
For losing not buying. For letting go,
Not playing in the yard. I see, he thinks.
Sounds like she's asking a lot.
Not for me. Not this year. What did you
Say this kind of house is called?
But the others are saying goodnight
moving from the bright gallery
Into a mist - clad island night.