Poetry
The Lubec morning
Meadowlark
Awake
Quiet
Flowers
A gull
A goldfinch in the feeder again
A scroll written on a porch post
Butter sounds
And pickup trucks winding their way to the water
A crow
A dog barks
And slowly the meadowlark stretches
For
The
Run
And
Violas play again in a town without pity
*written August 6.