How could I know you...

How could I know you, marble and wood, stone and timber, pure and white, smooth and simple?

What are your walls, the views from your windows?

How is your house held as one?

In wind, do you sway? In rain, repel the pour? Is your door secure?

With eager heart, hoist the flag and let the shutters fly upon their hinges.

To know you, yet mystery remain...

Kennebunkport, Maine

Snow blankets the forgotten ground.

Ice clings to frozen tentacles of barren trees.

Just beyond the melting snow which slowly drips from the icy fangs

that hang from the barns eves.

A sound is heard and a sight is seen of crystallized fragile branches giving way

to that which weighs upon their swaying limbs.

The waves lurch upon the land

as if trying to escape the monstrous clinching of the sea.

It is a spectacle to see the shoreline and feel the stinging spray

as all around your ankles the waves fill the street.