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When the gray of the sky…

On the winter days when the sky and the bay are the same color, I’m happy to sit inside and spin, or knit or search the web for my current fancy…lately it’s been Maine poets as I try to find better ways to share with you the beauty and starkness of our winter coastline.

Because our campground was once fertile farm land dotted with apple trees, we still have the pleasure of deer wandering through in search of apple drops.  We saw a beautiful pair the other morning (actually, it was Neeshee the goat who pointed them out.)  You know how one thing leads to another, so if you’re inclined, read this and if you’d like to search a bit further…check out this wonderful poetry website.  The photo was borrowed from Flikr…use this link to see more of Mainely Pic’s beautiful pictures.

How to See Deer   by Philip Booth

Forget roadside crossings.

Go nowhere with guns.

Do you see?
Do you see?

Go elsewhere your own way,

lonely and wanting. Or

stay and be early:

next to deep woods

inhabit old orchards.

All clearings promise.

Sunrise is good,

and fog before sun.

Expect nothing always;

find your luck slowly.

Wait out the windfall.

Take your good time

to learn to read ferns;

make like a turtle:

downhill toward slow water.

Instructed by heron,

drink the pure silence.

Be compassed by wind.

If you quiver like aspen

trust your quick nature:

let your ear teach you

which way to listen.

You’ve come to assume

protective color; now

colors reform to

new shapes in your eye.

You’ve learned by now

to wait without waiting;

as if it were dusk

look into light falling:

in deep relief

things even out. Be

careless of nothing. See

what you see.

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