Maine | Reflections on the Teche

Posts Tagged ‘Maine’

This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Baby Tern

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged #poemsofpresence, #small poems, Maine, Molly Hogan, nature poetry, Tern, This Photo Wants to be a Poem on August 24, 2022| 19 Comments »

Leave a small poem response to the photo in the comments. Be sure to support other writers with encouraging words.

If you’ve been here before, you know that one of my favorite photographers is a critique partner, Inkling Molly Hogan. Molly lives in Maine and is an amazing photographer. Please take a moment to read her Tuesday post about “gathering calm” through nature.

When I go out to take pictures, I usually have at least the location in mind, which dictates some of what I’ll see. Ocean versus marsh versus river. Forests or fields. Still, there are surprises here, too. I never know what will capture my attention at that particular time. Will the fog call to me, or shadows or spider webs? Will interesting patterns emerge in sand, water or sky?
Molly Hogan

What does the poet see? What will draw your attention? The ocean waves? The striking bird? The patterns in the sand?

Fledgling tern cries to be fed, photo by Molly Hogan

Hunger…

makes the baby cry
the great owl hunt
the fledgling squeal
Hunger opens our souls
for feeding
Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Writing, tagged Donna Smith, Maine, This Photo Wants to be a Poem on August 20, 2020| 25 Comments »

Welcome to This Photo Wants to be a Poem, a weekly poetry prompt modeled after Laura Purdie Salas’s 15 Words or Less. We invite you to write a small poem in the comments and write encouraging comments to other writers. No judgements here. Just playing with words.

Today’s photo comes from poet Donna Smith. She lives in Maine and recently biked near the Kennebec River. Maine is a place I’ve never been, but I imagine summer is for outdoors. Not like in Louisiana where you can only tolerate short bursts outside. Donna has returned to Maine after spending some time in Pennsylvania. She is happy to be back. On Facebook she draws a squiggle and writes a poem each day. Here’s a recent one:

The Stairs

The stairs go up
The stairs go down
They also turn and
Turn around
They go from here
And end up there
Just when you think
You know just where
The stairs will lead
You to a place
You’ve never set
your foot or face
But don’t despair
Don’t cry or mope
The stairs mean that
There’s always hope
Hope for a place
Of peace and love
Of open doors
And blue above
I know it’s there
And you can, too
Step up, step down
Keep stepping true.
Then all at once
You will arrive
The steps lead you
To full alive.

By Donna JT Smith, 8/18/2020

“Me and my bike relaxing by the Kennebec on a beautiful summer evening.” by Donna Smith

By the river
a blue bike
waits
for a friend.
Margaret Simon, draft

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Poetry Friday: Molly’s Marsh

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged Maine, Molly Hogan, nature poem on November 8, 2019| 13 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Irene at Live Your Poem.

My poet-friend and writing group partner, Molly Hogan, is a fine art photographer in her spare time. She lives in Maine and posts amazing photos on her blog and Facebook page. Sometimes her photos inspire me to respond in poetry.

Dawn on the Marsh
Dawn on the marsh glows
like embers, like the final flash of a torch
lighting the tiny particles of fog
rising ghost-like and dreamy.
High in the sky
geese line up
to honk their way south
In the distance, deer graze,
tentatively perk their ears
to your sound.
You do not feel the cold
that numbs your fingers and toes
as you click the lens of your camera
whispering a prayer of thanks.
Margaret Simon, draft 2019

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Cynthia’s Garden

Posted in Poetry Friday, tagged authors, Cynthia Lord, Maine on September 4, 2015| 11 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up with Linda at Teacher Dance

Rose of Sharon photo by Cynthia Lord

I love being able to connect with authors through Twitter and Facebook. I met Cynthia Lord at NCTE last year, and she has graciously allowed me to be her friend on Facebook. The photos of her home in Maine place me there, much like her middle-grade books do. I was involved with the Summer Poem Swap this summer. I wrote this poem for a poet who lives in Maine. My visit to Maine became a walk through Cynthia’s garden.

Cynthia’s Garden

When the haze sweeps in,
I stop by Cynthia’s garden
to see the pink rose of Sharon
surprise with a bridal white.

Cynthia asks me in for tea,
a warm taste of sweet honey-orange spice.
On the center table,
sweet pea, Queen Anne’s lace, elderberry.

On the mantle, a photograph
of last winter’s snow, thick and unshoveled.
We look and sigh, knowing
this moment of surprise sweetness
is fleeting.

Her kitchen window looks out on the bay.
Colorful sails rise like kites
above crystal blue. We talk
about bunnies and blueberries
and boys who love to sleep
outside under the stars.

When the haze sweeps in,
I tell Cynthia goodbye
and hold her heart
like a poem I want to hear
again.

–Margaret Simon