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)

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)

Monday Morning Aubade on a Spring Day in Maine

You wake me and I bandage your toe,

me in my night gown, you already dressed,

I put my glasses on, and shake cobwebs from my brain.

It’s a cold, mostly gray, spring day,

and the sparrows are filling the yard with song.

With my brief glance out the picture window that overlooks the bay

I see the tide slipping out.

It is as if a great silvery silk curtain

with eiders embroidered on its surface

is slowly and steadily being drawn back.

But back to your toe, the infected one,

I clean and bandage it

You dress your feet,

We have a brief embrace at the kitchen door,

then off you go to work

as the lemony sun slides up from the horizon only to disappear

in the shrouded sky,

while I grab my pen to write.

This is our morning good-bye—a tender routine after 38 years.

Tomorrow the details will be different, but the love will be the same.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 6, 2015)

aubade-music suitable to greeting the dawn or morning; a song about two lovers parting at dawn.

Prompt 6 from the NaPoWriMo / 30 Poems in 30 Days website

The Old Red Barn

There is a place of dreams,

an old red barn with memories

of my grandfather who was

and now is not,

Buried beneath a granite slab

with Nana now by his side.

How do I recall the days that were?

With him walking the earth

With him feeding the cows

With him cutting the hay

With him in his chair silently puffing his pipe

With him fishing along the banks of Black Ledge Creek

With him rushing out the door during Christmas dinner, donning his fireman’s hat as he went.

With him that one and only time he let me help pluck the feathers from the warm breast of a pheasant he had shot—a task usually reserved for his grandsons.

And we stood behind the old red barn

Where his fishing boat stayed in the winter

Only to be towed back to Moosehead Lake in Maine the next summer

To the place of his dreams and deep desires,

the place he brought his bride to all those long years ago,

the place that he loved,

the place of his being,

the place that he died one summer.

But the old red barn is empty now

Save for his memory

or his ghost.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 1, 2015)

Maine is Not

Maine is not Arizona.

It does not have saguaros and ocotillos and cacti

You cannot wear flip flops all year round.

You cannot grow oranges in Maine.

There are no nectar feeding bats in Maine,

and the fragrance of creosote bush does not perfume the air after the rain.

There is no song of the desert toad singing its wild mating cry during the monsoon.

In Maine there are not ten kinds of hummingbirds flying around.

In fact, in Maine, only one species is found!

Maine is not sunny, day after day after day.

Maine is not flat and dusty and dry,

Maine is not landlocked.

Maine is not predictable,

Maine is not tame.

Maine is not crowded or bustling or boring.

You cannot escape nature in Maine.

You cannot drive very far in a straight line,

and in Maine, “You can’t get there from here.”

In summer you cannot stay outside too long because of humidity, mosquitoes, black flies, and ticks.

In winter you cannot stay outside because of snow and ice and below zero temperatures

with high, gusty winds to drive the point home.

Maine does not have rattlesnakes, scorpions, or tarantulas.

Maine does not have Spanish style houses.

There is no place else like Maine.

Maine is not Arizona.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 1, 2015)

Messalonskee Lake in Maine 6-23-14

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

Day One Prompt: A Poem of Negation

Questions on a Perfect Summer Day

Can I pause for just a moment

to enjoy this summer day?

With the breeze teasing the branches and

a chickadee brightly calling?

Can I stop and listen to the cicada’s sultry whine?

Can I smell the fragrant flowers on the sea salted air?

Will I pause long enough to watch gulls wheeling overhead?

Or stop my frantic rushing to watch a butterfly at rest?

Can my eyes follow the darting of a jewel like dragonfly?

Can my heart stop to fill with wonder on this perfect summer day?

Can my soul drink it all in and hold it as a promise

against the coming winter’s snow?

Can I taste such sweetness and live?

~Kathie Adams Brown ( September 4, 2014)

Down the Green Road

Down the green road I drive,

water on both sides,

seagulls wheeling overhead,

and then I see her glide,

black wings spread wide,

white head, white tail, yellow beak and feet,

talons stretched she lands

on prey in the green field,

 a picture of wildness as I drive,

on this green road,

this coastal road,

in the Maine countryside.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 30, 2014)

Today is the last day of National Poetry Month, and I just could not let it end without writing at least one new poem. This is inspired by my drive home from the town today when I saw a Bald Eagle land a nearby field. Click on the link below to see what other poets have done.

NaPoWriMo 2014

The Wild Blue Sea

View from Land's End on Bailey Island, ME  3-16-14

I wait on the wild blue shore to see,

I wait to watch the wild blue sea,

What are the creatures, what of the birds?

When will the wind blow?

What will I hear?

What are the colors,

All shades of blue,

Some shades of gray,

Some green too.

Here in the bay by the wild blue sea,

here I am waiting for whatever will be,

Why am I drawn to this wild blue sea?

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 10, 2014)

NaPoWriMO 2014

Morning on the Bay

Mere Point Bay, Brunswick, ME March 2014

The silver bay is flecked with gray, then blushes a soft pink,

The shining sun has just begun to rise above the drink,

And so the morning softly comes upon the silver bay,

And all the birds burst into song to welcome the new day.

~kathie adams brown (March 18, 2014)

In the Green Fields of Maine

Norridgewock, ME 2012

In the green fields of Maine

I lie on the cool green breast of the earth

Warmed by an Indian Summer sun

While all of my sadness drains away

Drawn out by this good earth,

This dirt and grass, and deep blue sky

I lie here still as a newborn fawn,

I feel this sense of being

Close to the earth I love

Close to the land I love

Close to the beating heart of nature

I lie here weak and worried

Then I rest

And let my heart grow strong

Lying on this cool green breast

Warmed by the October sun

Grateful that I am home.

~Kathie Adams Brown (February 7, 2013)

A Phoebe in Maine

In the shining green of damp leaves

In the liquid gray of summer rain

The small, gray bird landed

clinging

To the bark of a tree

It flew to a wire

--and tried to shade itself

It flew to the woodpile

--and pumped its tail,

And then while I watched,

With wide eyes and pumping heart,

--it flew away.

Kathie Adams Brown (July 11, 2003) Livermore Falls, Maine

Aroostook County Winter

The sun shone today.
It glistened and sparkled on the snow.
The wind blew cold upon me
And I felt trapped.
No longer does the beauty
Of this place touch me
The isolation has become a trap.
I feel that I must flee, but,
Where to?
What do I want?
Where is the place
That I can call Home?

~Kathiesbirds (1-22-98)

Skywatch Friday: OSI The Folly of a Summer's Sky

Wilson Lake in Wilton, Maine by Kathie 7-14-08 Nikon D80

We think of sunny summer,
but in Maine it’s endless blue,
with white clouds sailing
on a breath of wind
over silvery lakes
and shadowy ponds,
when winter seems a foolish thing
to think
about.

~kathiesbirds (August 7, 2008)

Shooting Data: Lens: 18-70mm F/3.5-4.5G Focal Length: 18mm/250 sec - F/10

Winter Wind: Epilogue

Winter Wind blew
through each little crack,
through empty pockets.
Winter Wind blew snow
across the freshly plowed driveway
bringing harsh reality home.
winter wind blew us a-w-a-y- - - - - - -

~kathiesbirds (1997)

Epilogue: With Gus and I both attending college along with our oldest child and three more at home we were not able to buy the Yellow House. We moved out 2 days before Christmas into a rental home where we lived for the next 2 ½ years while we finished school. Money was tight and winter temperatures fell to -35F with wind-chills of -50F, but we survived and graduated from college and moved away from the frozen north. The Yellow House still stands on Rt. 1 in Westfield, though it is no longer yellow and part of the old barn has fallen down. I’m glad I lived there when I did. I hope you enjoyed my memories in art and poetry. There is more to this story and maybe someday I will tell it.

To view all the posts about the Yellow House click on the Yellow House label below or in the sidebar.

Apple Tree

Autumn swells
your branches full,
red blush jewels
on a green tapestry.
Little monkeys we
cling to branches plucking
sweetness for the winter.

~kathiesbirds (1997)

To view previous posts in this Series click on the links below:

Yellow House Post 1

Yellow House post 2

Yellow House post 3

Yellow House Post 4

Woodstove

Snuggling round the hearth,
heaps of blankets, books and kids,
Dog and kitty join us
in a circle of warmth
only a woodstove gives.

~kathiesbirds (copyright 1997)

To view previous posts in this series click on the links below:

Yellow House post 1

Yellow House post 2

Yellow House post 3

Pine Cone People

Pine cone people beneath the tree,
Pine cone faces smile up at me,
In this lonely meadow
standing up so tall
beneath your sagging branches
the pine cone people fall.

~Kathiesbirds (July 25, 2008)

Prompt 22: Faces

This is the third in a series of posts about the Yellow House.

Yellow House page 1

Yellow House page 2.

Stars Again

Stars again! Stars again!
I can see stars again!
No city lights—
just nature’s twinkle,
winkle, crinkle,
sparkling, darkling light!
at night!
Stars!

~kathiesbirds (1997)

Note: This is the second post in a series about the Yellow House in Westfield, Maine.

Skywatch Friday: The Yellow House

Introduction: Today's post if from a book I made about a short 4 month period that we lived in a little yellow house in Westfield, Maine. We had moved there in 1996 after Gus took a buyout from his company to attend college at the University of Maine in Presque Isle. While we hoped to buy the house and live there forever it was not to be, but the short time we lived there is full of rich memories. This is the first in a series of posts about life in the Yellow House. (All words and images are copyrighted by kathiesbirds 2008)

Dotted Swiss Memories

Sunsets in a kitchen window
washing supper remnants away
while children leap
through rose and gold light
dotted Swiss memories.

~kathiesbirds (copyright 1997)

Click on the button to view other Skywatch photos.

Go to Sycamore Canyon to see my other Skywatch entry.