Marshall Point Lighthouse, Port Clyde, Maine  1-21-18

I am drawn to the colors of the winter sea,
lost in the light,
surrounded by solitude
caressed by a gentle breeze,
while the rhythmic pounding of surf
washes away my grief.

February 7, 2018

In Memorium for Gardiner W. Brown, Sr. 1930 - 2018 Who loves ya, baby!

My Soul Has Found Her Place Again

At the end of the day
On the banks of the stream
By the still water I stand
Warmed by the tea cup in my hand
And watch the calm water
Creased by the wake of a muskrat
Joyfully swimming through
The evening stillness.

I am in the best cathedral
The tall pines forming lush green walls,
And surrounded by the angel chorus
Of frogs,
And the whinny of the robins
As they settle in for the night.
This flat, gray water soothes my harried soul
And I feel the stillness settle in my spirit
And nestle around my beating heart
And I know,
My soul has found her place again.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 24, 2016)

Canada Goose

You are a wild thing

and from your feathered breast

I feel my own heart beating,

and when you fly and cry

Your haunting wild song

I hear the yearning of my own soul

to know the wild places that you know,

to see the places you have seen,

to feel that wind beneath my wings,

…if only I had your wings, your eyes,

…if only I could sing your wild cries,

…if only I had the freedom to fly.

~Kathie Adams Brown (February 1, 2016)

The Freeing Wind

Trapped inside by this humid haze

My thoughts, a foggy slug

Dullness is the drink of the day,

—I can barely breathe!

—I can barely move!

and I don’t care if I do either…

But, then a cool breeze starts to play

among the leaves in my backyard,

and dappled sunlight does a dance

on the surface of the deck and table

igniting just a little spark of life in me.

Suddenly the trees begin to sway

they clap their hands as Wind blows

all the humidity away!

I turn the roaring air conditioner off!

Flinging windows wide,

I let the Wind inside!

Now the sounds of Nature fill my ears

My thoughts, my mind becoming clear,

I just need to go outside it seems,

And awaken from these lethargic dreams!

~Kathie Adams Brown (September 9, 2015)

Summer Sunday Morning in Maine

I wake to the scent of the salty sea
Black-capped chickadees call to me,
Morning fog floats on the bay,
sea gulls call and fly away,
This is my life on the coast of Maine
where no two days are ever the same.

~Kathie Adams Brown (August 30, 2015)

The Fog of Summer

The damp days of summer,

The green and the gray,

The wet grass on bare feet,

fog rolling across the lawn in gossamer curtains.

I feel a chill in the air,

The harbinger of change—a hint

of Autumn in late July.

There are more summer days ahead,

filled with sunshine, sand, and warmth.

There are waves to ride and sandcastles to build, but

always the winter chill

barks like a dog on a chain

tied up at the back of the barn

where I try to forget him,

and hope I will silence him with starvation.

But he will bide his time and grow strong again.

One day he will break his chain

and glide over the north county in his loping stride

bringing ice on his breath

and snow in his fur

to banish the summer sun

and the autumn plenty.

He carries hunger in his belly

and gobbles up hope.

~Kathie Adams Brown (July 20, 2015)

Summer Rain

I just want to sit and listen to this rain

I want to turn off the manmade world and let Nature sooth my soul.

The repeated phrases of a vireo’s song are dripping from the trees.

Tufted titmice, gray as this stormy sky, scold and call from foliage

embracing me like verdant arms.

This summer rain in the north woods is a lovely place to be;

If the earth is my mother, then,

I am snuggling into her breast

and listening to her beating heart,

and this rain is not the sound of weeping but,

a soothing lullaby.

~Kathie Adams Brown (July 1, 2015)

It is You I know

We are old in our love

on a Saturday morn

We have lived a long time together

We move in a smooth dance

through these familiar rooms,

all the steps memorized

from years of practice

even as we change and grow

It is You I know.

Kathie Adams Brown (March 14, 2015)

Happy Anniversary, Gus!

A Spring Evening in Maine

I stood in the misty green at dusk

and heard the cuckoo’s call,

in the dark green woods

the pewee’s song

rang through the glittering trees,

overhead a flock of waxwings

went zinging across the sky,

and there in this tranquil, greening spring,

Here in this misty dark I stand,

Content.

~Kathie Adams Brown (June 4, 2014)

Spring Haze

Moving down the road

Like a bird in flight

Colors flashing by

Sprinkled with sunlight

All becomes a blur

Whizzing quickly by me

In a flowered haze

Of blossoms and new leaves

Lavender and gold

Chartreuse green and lime

Cranberry red maple blooms

Set against the pines

All against a sky

Of blue beyond all blues,

While woolly clouds scamper

Over all these brilliant hues

I find the springtime haze

Makes me feel so high

It sets my mind aflame,

It makes me feel alive!

~Kathie Adams Brown (May 19, 2015)

Not the best artwork, but I was having fun!

My Child

It is a terrible love

this fierce mother’s love I feel,

for my child.

She does not understand it,

my childless daughter,

she cannot comprehend how I feel,

or why

I would go to the ends of the earth for her,

I would fight to the death for her,

I would suffer any pain for her,

and wash her soul in healing tears.

She is my daughter.

She is my child.

That’s all.

And that’s everything.

~Kathie Adams Brown ( April 16, 2015)

Happy Mother's Day

The River and the Bridge

Down by the ancient river

Its silver boards shine with the age of time

clear water trips over river stones

chattering merrily as it goes

beneath the covered bridge.

Is this new water or old

flowing over these stones?

Does it remember Time

and all that has happened here,

before there was a bridge,

before there was a road,

before there was a forest?

Does this water remember the glacier it came from,

or when this bridge was built?

How many horses and buggies passed over

before cars came this way

sputtering exhaust into blue sky

proclaiming a new way and a new day?

Are the bridge and river friends

or enemies in an endless battle?

Does the river want to be free?

Does the bridge want to hang on just a little longer?

This bridge is a tie to the past

and a road to the future.

This river is the measure of Time

And the depository of memories,

Life Blood to the world.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 29, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 /30 Poems in 30 Days

Prompt 28: Bridges

I Just Want to be Outside

I have been so busy

The words bottled up inside

Like a dam

Built across my brain,

Holding back the tide

Bogged down by responsibilities,

I am lost inside

I must be outside to find release,

I must be outside to find my peace,

I need to go outside,

to find my inner calm,

I just want to be outside!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 25, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

Questions by the Restless Sea

Standing on the silver shore

by the shining sea

Seabirds fly

and seabirds dive,

Like thoughts inside of me

as ocean waves toss and roll

so my heart heaves inside:

Will I go or, will I stay

Here by this restless tide?

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 27, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

A Seaside Goodbye to My Son

It was just a

walk to the bay, where

silver water shines, and

steel wool clouds cover the sky

perfumed with the scent of the salty sea,

today it is the fragrance of parting.

You are my son,

Tall man and strong,

I see my son,

I see my boy,

in the man you have become.

I am content with who you are.

My heart swells like the sea,

inflated by this tide of love,

these few moments together

before you fly away from me again,

a free bird.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 25, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

No Time to Write

I do not have time to write a poem,

To do it I need to be alone,

It has been such a busy week,

I’ve had no time for what I seek!

The words and images just won’t come to me,

No metaphors or similes,

I’ll have to write another day,

When words and I have time to play!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 25, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

Hallelujah Forest

I've been waiting for the music of this dark night,

warm on an evening in April

Spring peepers singing from dark, wet woods,

vernal pools alive

with the Rites of Spring

I stand in the darkness listening

as the chorus swells and fills the air

rising like a tide from the forest—

Handel's Hallelujah,

Beethoven’s Ode to Joy,

this is the music I hear

in this woodland cathedral,

rising from the vernal pools

with croaking voices singing,

and all the peepers peeping,

Majestic voices of

Amphibian Angels.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 16, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

Nana's House

The white Victorian on the edge of the green

gingerbread lace hanging from the eaves

veranda on the corner

neatly tucked in.

Enter through the red front door

you are welcomed,

wrapped in love, embraced by time,

these old things that once were hers:

that old rug, faded and worn,

that certain floorboard that squeaks and sets the tea cups rattling

in the china cupboard

when you pass by.

There is her rocker, empty now but still, I hear its distant music.

I know the yellow paint is peeling off the kitchen walls,

and views out these windows are wobbly from antique glass panes,

but, this room holds her presence,

—cooking at the stove

—feeding grandpa at the old gray Formica table

—preparing holiday dinners

—grading student papers in the evening.

Nana’s house is where we gathered

as a family clan so many years ago.

Now everyone has moved on

far and wide and involved

In their own lives

Yet we all have threads trailing behind us

and tying us back

to this old Home.

 ~Kathie Adams Brown (April 13, 2014)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

The Vanity of the Smug

You would not think a man would be shot

For a simple broken taillight.

You would not think a police officer would

shoot a man in the back in cold-blooded murder.

I did not know that broken taillights and running away in fear

were crimes punishable by death

and carried out by one man

as judge, jury and executioner, but

apparently in some parts of this country this is so,

especially if the officer is white

and the person who was murdered commits the crime

of being poor and black.

And the Smug Man Stands

over the dead man with his hands on his hips

and a shield on his breast,

and lies once again.

But this time,

This Time

His shield does not protect!

His shield does not keep him from the consequences of his lie,

because of an ordinary man

and his video camera

Which records the truth

and reveals the lie.

And a nation rises up and says, NO MORE!

And the people rise up and scream, NO MORE!

I do not want to see what I see.

I do not want to believe what I see.

I want to turn away.

I do not want to watch that man being gunned down.

I want to turn the channel and see something nice.

But therein lies the problem.

We need to LOOK!

WE need to see!

We need to see IT!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 10, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30  Poems in 30 Days

I Don't Know Whether

I don’t know whether

It’s the weather

That moves me to wrote poetry,

Or moves me to climb a tree!

If I had some feathers

I would not mind the weather.

I could perch outside in a tree,

Or fly above the canopy!

And I would not wonder whether

It would be snow, or rain, or sunny weather,

I’d just take flight with all my feathers

In whatever weather!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 10, 2015)

National Poetry Writing Month/ 30 Poems in 30 Days 2015