March: Action! Motion!
After the winter's stillness,
The Bay groans and wakes.
An errant wind skitters
Among the woolly ice chunks,
Shepherding them out the Kennebec
To open water
April: Rivulets and rills, ripples and streams,
Billows, cascades, and torrents
Swell the waters,
And in the velvet night
A million peepers sing.
May: On a green-gold day
The whole Bay dances
Clad in chartreuse and lime,
Apple, jade, and willow,
Moss and olive,
To the lilt of spring.
June: An intensity of blue;
cobalt, new denim, blueberry
indigo, sapphire, ultramarine;
So deep it swallows all.
July: Skied with azure,
And rimmed with emerald,
The Bay basks, burning the eyes.
August: Sun dappled, sun shimmered, sun speckled,
Sun rippled, sun dazzled, sun jeweled
Sun dancing, sun stippled, sun mottled
Sun freckled, sun golden!
September: The eagle soars
Watching as the Kennebec and the Abagadasset,
The Eastern and the Androscoggin,
The Cathance and the Muddy mingle
In the warm fall sun.
The tide eddies and turns.
Crimson, orange, yellow, scarlet, gold
Titan, apricot, deep pine green,
This day the shore is star,
And waters play supporting roles.
November: Still and calm, fog cradled,
A study in charcoal, white, and gray,
Its islands half hidden in the mist,
Doubled by reflection.
Heavy clouds hang fiercely low.
A whining wind whips water white.
The first few flakes fly
And hiss, striking cold waves.
January: White on white on white
With but a line or two of black
And blue-gray shadows.
A hoary quilt picked out
In shades of pearl and silver,
Alabaster, cream, and ivory.
February: Out across the breakage by the shore,
Far out onto the icy Sahara, wind rippled,
Quiet as eternity,
Except for the screak of restless ice,
The nip of wind on cheek,
And the promise of sun on shoulder.