Fresh Ink 2022
Poems by Steven Chabot*
The Power Lines From the hilltop seat, miles can be seen, of the clear-cut swath winding through the woods Brown-barren trees with creosote skin, evenly dot the rambling hills, spun on the trees, a web of black wire, traverses the hills below At first glance, a scar, a blight on the land, progress-run rampant, a closer look and you will see, the beauty exposed to the light In the spring, when the snow melts, and streams carry it away. The sunshine warms the burgeoning soil and stirs the life within Frogs call out to find their mate and fiddleheads break through the ground, as spring’s first produce, free to take, from natures open buffet With spring’s progress, cold grey hills, softened by shades of lush green, flying bugs feed the birds nesting in nearby trees. Wildflower’s bloom, buds burst on the trees, fiddleheads uncoil, into a feathery sea, its waves ebb and flow with the breeze Late May - early June wild roses show, upon the spiney brambles, from rocky crags, where they climb, their sweet scent fills the air In summer’s youth, June brings a new scene, a garland of pink and green, as mountain laurel blooms, in full majesty, as far as the eye can see. Late June - early July wild blueberries start to ripen, with buckets and bags we pick for hours then bring 96