In verse: Maine places and people


Produced by Dennis Camire

This week’s poem is by Preston Hood of Alfred. His most recent book is “The Hallelujah of Listening,” published by Cervena Barva Press.



By Preston Hood


Icy blue to walk on;

it’s autumn in the marsh; flamingos

migrate one thousand miles to the Atlantic

of fish & breaching whales. Often

the worm turns where the moon

is accented by the Great Blue Heron, & the sea

chooses the morning sky, dark blue

as lapis lazuli. In the ultramarine

of God-given song of blue bells

that sprawl in the spring, small islands

of peace. At the end of my life

is a beginning. The river below my house

is steel blue, raw umber, white lead;

geese across the twilight honk in tongues.

Often the worm

turns in my shadow, so I am hushed

by ink on a white page; I am tied

to the dark by ghosts. To be blue now,

to be bones burned with indigo, my spirit

rises, haze over marsh, ultramarine.


Dennis Camire can be reached at [email protected]