Produced by Dennis Camire

This week’s poem is by Anna Wrobel of Westbrook, who co-curates the monthly Lowry’s Lodge Reading Series.


This Close

By Anna Wrobel


To be this close

to woodpeckers walking backwards catbirds calling out to friends goldenrod not making me sneeze

to earth and grass almost unknown as an urban child.


How have I come here landed in soft hands willows and spruce oaks and maples

a wild ravine chattering life where bucks and does

and fauns may shelter from busy roads not far.


To be this close to

the beauty of everything while masters of emptiness swim secure in gold-plated Nothing

threatening to drown us in the decadence

and the greed

of their addictions.


They would begrudge me even this small September sunny happiness

under willows

my side to the sun feet flat on the grass this pen in my hands

these thoughts of children the good we do create

what love we may harvest.


Dennis Camire can be reached at [email protected]