Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Bryant Pond

Wind ripples the glassy lake and sends
Lily pads rising and falling
A dead tree trunk lies immobile
In its permanent resting place
Once-crisp leaves moldering in the muck

A lone frog echoes its own call out
Across the silence from the other side
Where dark woods lead to abandoned camps
Their skeletal docks empty
Plastic kayaks tied up tight against the porches
Rafts stacked on shore for the long winter
The houses sit, unmoving
Water and trees constantly in motion
Tuneless songs riding out the seasons

A forgotten stone picnic table sits
Under a tall evergreen at
The empty boat launch on Rowe Hill Rd.
In my car, looking at the pond,
I wonder if I will miss this place
Its unforgiving solitude and
Beautiful, sweet air.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Reflections in a Window

Tonight the light from the lamp
Illuminates my naked body onto a
Backdrop of dusk
My breasts blend into the
Moist green grass of the
Yard beyond the house
Glowing and round and
Moving slightly as I breathe
As the grass flutters in the breeze

The curve of my waist merges with the
Straight line of the roof's edge
Soft belly and thighs with
Cold tar shingles
Warm tungsten skin radiates
This image of life onto
Cool, smudged glass
Hard as the granite that birthed it.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Saying Goodbye to Maine

Heading down the hill, I watch
Trees shaking violently in the wind
Elastic limbs contorting
Throwing their plumage of leaves
To the freshly tarred asphalt

The cast-offs cascade across the road
Dead oranges, yellows and browns
Tumbling like fallen acrobats
Clinging to their last breaths
Broken trapeeze branches leering high above

In the cool October night the fading
Sunlight sharpens the shadows
Brings out the colors in the hills
Shiny distant windows beaming back a
Silent S.O.S. to the waning day

Squirrels, emboldened by late-season panic,
Dart across the street and I nearly hit one,
A close call out here in the country,
The swollen half-moon my only witness and salvation.

Friday, October 12, 2012


Early morning blush fades away
His hand rests on her back
Like a hot stone
There is calm, and acceptance
Hours passing in the short daylight
Lead them home to each other -
Quick, simple dinner,
Bottle of wine
Some ice cream on a cold night
These are the things that add up
To forever:
Fire in the woodstove
Kissing in the orange night
Cat-scratched couch with flat cushions
Sleep comes fast, feet up, hair down
Years pass, just like this.