The Self Says, I Am
literature
Poetry by Melissa Crowe
Say I’m clover and Queen Anne’s
lace, devil’s paintbrush and lupine.
I’m a yard of junked cars, each
with its corona of broken glass
It’s a Maine Thing
literature
How an amazingly generous Mainer saved the life of another
“It’s go time.”
Three small words. One BIG meaning.
Stilling Season
literature
Softness, like honey
catching the light and spreading
out to fill the spoon
Weatherbeaten
literature
at Winslow Homer’s studio, Prouts Neck
The studio
where he lived a long time alone
was an old carriage house. For privacy
he had it moved about a hundred feet
and kept the entry hidden from the road.