Deborah Cummins
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Deborah Cummins
poetry & essays
 
 

There & Here

 
 
Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.
Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

It’s open hunting season for moon snails.

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[Your Name Here]August 4, 2010
August. Already.
August. Already.

The I Can’t Believe It’s Here month.

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[Your Name Here]August 1, 2010
"and gives airy nothing a local habitation and a name." (Shakespeare)
"and gives airy nothing a local habitation and a name." (Shakespeare)

Our street sign is missing. Okay, it’s been stolen. Again.

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[Your Name Here]July 24, 2010
The Moon Rules
The Moon Rules

What I’d come upon in a morning stroll may be called eversion.

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[Your Name Here]July 22, 2010
Not In Words Alone
Not In Words Alone

Never, and I mean never, talk politics with anyone you don’t know well.

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[Your Name Here]July 18, 2010
You Gotta Dig Rock
You Gotta Dig Rock

If you don’t like rock, you’ll never love this island.

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[Your Name Here]July 14, 2010
Quiet, please.
Quiet, please.

The quiet, so rich and full in itself.

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[Your Name Here]July 10, 2010
Maine-speak. Ayuh.
Maine-speak. Ayuh.

Mainers, I’ve often heard it said, “talk funny.”

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[Your Name Here]July 5, 2010
"On little cat feet" not
"On little cat feet" not

I’m listening and waiting for the fog to lift.

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[Your Name Here]June 29, 2010
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Deborah Cummins Poetry and Essays
 

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