Poetry

Under A Quarter

I waited until the gage was under a quarter tank before I stopped to fill up – dust partially covering the “E” – and I watched the numbers rise until full. Stale coffee and past- sale date …

The Green Bus

The familiar green bus hissed and puffed its way over to the stop where I had been waiting for the last half hour in the warm morning rain. My clothes, conform to my …

Karen’s Song

Under the vast oak she croons to three other crones clustered in shade whose edge creeps close each time they settle in their lawn chairs. From this chosen remove they treasure end-of-summer …

Maine In Winter

The water in the Gulf of Maine   is deep blue cold coming in   One lighthouse blinks at another   from across the sound   Small white needles   of fishing boats split the surface   leaving a …