Produced by Dennis Camire

This week’s poem is by Patricia Smith Ranzoni, poet laureate of Bucksport.



By Patricia Smith Ranzoni


But the raven yells to me all the more

from atop the pointed evergreens.


“What did you bring,” he wants to know.


He and the eagle will vie for tossed perch,

pickerel, sucker and small mouth bass

once icefishing starts.



Anything freezable has been removed

from the camp. All condiments home.


The cove, too, is solid silent ice

so we know that everything that lives

in the mud has burrowed down by now.


If only people were as smart.


But the boats and furniture are undercover

and there’s a wood stack by the stove

for any marooned or lost hermit.

Any sweethearts some people know.


Dennis Camire can be reached at

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