Produced by Dennis Camire This week’s poem is by Lee Sharkey of Portland. The poem originally appeared in “FIELD.”   Farewell (August Macke, 1913) By Lee Sharkey   I must always think of August. I can’t imagine that his good luck will leave him. — Franz Marc Wherever you are you are somewhere on earth. Whoever […]

Produced by Dennis Camire This week’s poem is by Annaliese Jakimides of Bangor. The poem first appeared in “Off the Coast.”   MY OCEAN AS THE BLIND MAN SEES IT By Annaliese Jakimides   Instinctively he turns his face up into the thin, buttery light that lies on the back of the sea, along the horizon […]

Produced by Dennis Camire This week’s poem is by John Reinhart of Brunswick.   At Home By John Reinhart   Swallows flit under the eaves, carrying grass and twigs, building their home, well-insulated and protected, swooping over Akers Pond for food, which wings itself numerous and nutritious.   Boomerangs flung with precision, they arc out over […]

Produced by Dennis Camire This week’s poem is by Jenny Doughty of Portland.   Rangeley Lake, October By Jenny Doughty   Clean tasting early morning air, sky pearl-lined oyster shell, cloud touches lake and hills on the far shore are lost; grey silk water lips and laps rocks,   hush, hush, long low waves roll under […]

Produced by Dennis Camire This week’s poem is by Jim Thatcher of Yarmouth and is from his book “Lesser Eternities” published by Deerbrook Editions, which was a finalist for the Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance Book Award for Poetry.   Abandoned Ode to an ’82 Toyota By Jim Thatcher   O Miss Silver. O sweetness, […]

Produced by Dennis Camire This week’s poem is by former Maine poet laureate Betsy Sholl. The poem originally appeared in “The Cafe Review.”   Elegy With Spiders For Michael Macklin By Betsy Sholl   Six months after you died, spiders fill the field, gleaming in early sun,   having spun all night their bright God’s-eyes, those […]

Produced by Dennis Camire This week’s poem is by Michalene Hague of Otisfield.   You Asked By Michalene Hague   Give me silence – moments of snow, wind-rippled like drifting desert sand, hollows carved like couches for contemplation.   Give me quiet – minutes of fresh-cut grass, its fragrance filling the space of spring, before, like […]

Produced by Dennis Camire This week’s poem is by David Stankiewicz, whose most recent book is “My First Beatrice,” published by Moon Pie Press.   A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Fisherman By David Stankiewicz   Lying still on the dock, his face so close to the surface he looks right through his own reflection, […]