the garden

Maine, Part 4 of 4

On our drive home
long before we encounter interstate highways
there are many pleasant miles of quiet
tree-lined, 2-lane roads

and embroidered skies

Maine, Part 3 of 4

The sweet smell of the sea
mixes with balsam and the crisp scent
of auburn and straw grasses

Others have stopped here, too
and left their marks atop the rock breakwater
on the other side of the road

Maine, Part 2 of 4

Morning, Day Three
a thick fog moistens every blade, every leaf and pebble
water and sky are one

Sitting, sipping tea
watching the ripples flow steadily further up the pebbly shore
the sun warms and dries the air

slowly
blue sky breaks above

Maine, Part 1 of 4

The first day in Maine
late summer-like
a thin haze on the horizon
cool air, but no long sleeves required

On the ferry
i heard someone say "Indian Summer"
but it isn't, strictly speaking
those are the exquisitely perfect
balmy days following the first frost.
Summer simply refuses to let go
even here, so far north.

Evergreens everywhere
running right up to the sea.
With all the car windows open
the scent of balsam washes over us

Day Two
At the edge of the small island
we scramble over rocks

Some are still sharp
lichens beginning to digest only the very edges

a careful step further
onto those the waves are washing smooth

We roll up shirt sleeves and pant legs.

"Did you get in the water?"
"Yes. Clear up to my ankles."

It's always cold
but wading in the summer cold sea feels good under the hot sun.

Sea maidens however, are frolicking about
but all we see of them is their golden tresses