Page 75 - WCM Summer 2022
P. 75

 Maine Town Meeting
The townsfolk arrive despite the unexpected storm in a parade of pickups and plows,
stomping snow from their LL Bean boots,
hair wild and windblown under woolen caps,
ear flaps down, ice crystals melting on winter beards
A few handshakes, a nod to neighbors
hardly seen since hunting season.
Scraping chairs as all stand for the Pledge of Allegiance, hats doffed and hands on hearts
except for the dreadlocked couple
who bought the old McKeen farm,
surely growing MaryJ and not organic vegetables.
A moment of silence for last year’s moderator,
dead from the COVID.
Swift passage of articles 1 through 9 and then long harangues directed at the hapless highway foreman
about the ever-present pot-holes
Enter the loud and fully fortified Billings brothers,
for their yearly spectacle of catcalling nonsensical insults until escorted outside by the part-time constable.
Forty minutes later, sipping tepid Grange coffee, congratulating each other on holding a firm bottom line
but that dang school budget will surely drive us to the poor house Donning homemade mittens or slapping leather logger’s gloves, they wallow in the new drifts to their pickups,
civic duty done.
Darlene Glover
Rolling Down The Hill
Okay ? We’re all going! Ready or not, let’s start rolling.
Down! Down the slope we go, A little scared, at first we’re slow.
Then we begin to pick up speed. Oh no, can’t stop! Let out a scream!
Rolling over and over, what a thrill At last a thump at the base of the hill.
We get up laughing and feeling dizzy with hair all tossed and brains all fizzy,
catching our breath we share a grin. Haven’t had this much fun since when
Let’s go roll down that hill . . . Again!
Mary C. Hargreaves
The Mountain Poets Society meets on the second Sunday of each month from 4–6pm. Everyone is welcome to share and discuss original poems. FMI 75

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