- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Raking Blues
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Juxtaposed against granite,
sweet fern, and dirt roads:
Locals, Canadians, Mexicans,
Mic Mac, and Passamaquoddy,
zig zag along the gulf of blue; tack
within stringed-off lanes, ten feet wide
and a quarter mile long - shade denied
by glacial migrations.
The wind never leaves their sails
as they move along with smiles and song:
Bentwood backs ache and blacken,
as berries are swept
into short-handled, long-tined rakes
powered by stamina - sweat -
need - to line ragged pockets
by turning the sea left behind
from powder blue back to green.
