Monday, August 31, 2015

August 31: Bistro

Drink in this moment:
good glass of cider, a crepe,
time alone to think.

August 30: Le Vieux-Quebec

old stones old streets
I walk in the past for hours
happy amid the crowds

Saturday, August 29, 2015

August 29: Mountain nocturne

No moon tonight: clouds.
No owl: crickets.
Mountains, fields: a seamless dark.

Friday, August 28, 2015

August 28: From Mount Philo

Down on Lake Champlain
two sailboats tack all morning:
imagine their view.
View from Mount Philo, VT, of Lake Champlain and the Adirondacks

Thursday, August 27, 2015

August 27: Moonlight in Vermont

Last light gilds the fields.
Raven calls the full moon up
for eight cameras.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

August 26: Bread Loaf, Vermont

You've been here before.
Greet the hayfield like a friend,
wave to the raven.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

August 25: Neighborhood gang

Behind the green leaves
cacophany of crows
and one unmoved eagle.

Monday, August 24, 2015

August 24: There and back again on the Georges Highland Path

Hiking Ragged Mountain--
I can't slow down 
or mosquitoes will catch up.

In the deep damp woods
I lose my shadow.
Wood-pewee whistles it back.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

August 23: On the mountain

We took the chairlift most of the way up Sugarloaf Mountain today, then hiked the rest of the way to the summit on ski trails blanketed with stones, bunchberries, crowberries, cranberries, and flowering alpine cinquefoil. Just below the summit we were surprised to see a Whimbrel, a largish shorebird, fly past us. 

At the summit, out of breath,
sustained by berries
and flights of birds.

August 22: On the trail

We hiked in to spend the night at Poplar Stream Falls Hut, part of the Maine Huts & Trails network near Sugarloaf Mountain.

On the trail, late August--
goldenrod abuzz with bees,
one red poplar leaf.

Friday, August 21, 2015

August 21: Sermons in stones

"And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds... sermons in stones, and good in everything. I would not change it." --William Shakespeare, in As You Like It

Sea-stones tell their stories--
the main character is time,
waves drive the plot.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

August 20: Mums in August

At the nursery--
thousands of potted mums wait,
one (yellow) blooming.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

August 19: Cocktail hour

sipping tequila
under the weeping willow
as the fog moves in

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

August 18: Night music

Crickets so loud
I can't hear myself think,
can only close my eyes.

Monday, August 17, 2015

August 17: Lucia Beach

Girls hum to snails.
I look for a heart,
find a pocketful of moons.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

August 16: Late summer afternoon, Owls Head harbor

Beach bared by low tide,
kids and gulls screaming.
Later, homemade blueberry pie.

Saturday, August 15, 2015

August 15: Elizabeth Bishop Symposium

The North Haven (Island) Library hosted a symposium over the past two days celebrating Elizabeth Bishop, one of my favorite poets. I attended this morning's session, which entailed taking an early boat from Rockland and returning by ferry this afternoon, head full of thoughts about Bishop's life and poems, while across the water clouds piled up dramatically over the Camden Hills.

In honor of this event, I thought I'd give myself the exercise of starting off today's haiku with a line of Bishop's poem "North Haven":

Nature repeats herself--
waves rock the ferry,
storm-petrels weave among them.

Friday, August 14, 2015

August 14: What gets me out of bed

Better than coffee--
waking to blue sky,
goldenrod blooming.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

August 13: Crickets

Tonight I notice
humming of crickets--
when did summer start to end?

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

August 12: Sky show

walking home
after a couple of drinks
the sky a revelation

Over the Riverwalk

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

August 11: Perseids

Perseid meteor shower--
wishes ready,
we watch together.

Monday, August 10, 2015

August 10: Birthday

Before the birthday party--
young crows whine nearby
as I wrap gifts for Mom.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

August 9: Chimney Farm

Chimney Farm, on the shores of Damariscotta Lake in Nobleboro, Maine, was the home of writers Henry Beston and Elizabeth Coatsworth. They are both buried there in a small cemetery, as well as their daughter, poet Kate Barnes, who was Maine's first Poet Laureate (and a dear friend of mine). The Damariscotta Lake Watershed Association, which has conserved much of the farm property, held a poetry reading there today in which I was invited to participate. On this beautiful sunny summer afternoon, four of us poets who had known Kate well read her poems and pieces by both her parents while standing amid their gravesites.
A perfect day
to read poems over your grave,
spells to bring you back.

Saturday, August 8, 2015

August 8: Nuts

Oak leaves rustle--
not prophecy but squirrels
dropping acorns, harsh words.

Friday, August 7, 2015

August 7: Herring Gut Learning Center

My nine-year-old niece attended marine biology day camp at the Herring Gut Learning Center in Port Clyde this week, and today the kids shared with their families what they'd been up to. This included showing off their art works as well as various creatures in the classroom aquarium and a touch tank.
My niece and her friends
show us scallop's fifty eyes,
hold stars in their hands.

Thursday, August 6, 2015

August 6: Cumulus

The weight of summer--
all day clouds gather and shift
atop the mountain.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

August 5: Eye exam

My eye on the screen:
a healthy red planet
with no inhabitants.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

August 4: Music before sunset

Blues on the stereo.
Rich, between-storms light,
the hint of a rainbow.

Monday, August 3, 2015

August 3: Reid State Park

Wind from the west and waves,
yet I hear the young tern
and know what it wants.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

August 2: Visitors

Three skunks tumble
along the newly-mown path.
We three watch from inside.

Saturday, August 1, 2015

August 1: Mouth of the Ducktrap

Low tide at the Ducktrap--
from our perch on the stones
we hear distant terns.