I am from ME.
Maine. Myself. We.
“The Way Life Should Be”
The rocky coastline with her cliffs,
Innumerable faces; they laugh, cry, and taunt.
Salty waves burst into fine mist that invigorates the crisp pines.

I am from Maine Maple Sunday.
Pancakes. Ice Cream. More Ice Cream.
I can practically breathe the sugar in the air
As sweet steam billows out of the old fashioned boiling pot
And into the cold March sky.

I am from Leon Leonwood Bean.
Fair. Honest. Quality.
And from Maine’s exemplary industries.
From blueberries, potatoes, and of course
From lobster.

I am from evergreen.
Sense. Gaze. Smell
That refreshing aroma which energizes and comforts all at once.
A sea of emerald needles that I swim.

I am from the slopes.
I soar. I glide. I cut like a knife.
Here, we are all family.
Descending together, yet carving our own paths.

I am from the Atlantic.
Green. Vast. Powerful.
My playground opens up to me;
Offers comfort in a strange isolation.

I am from sea life.
Blueshark. Stripers. Lobster.
I follow the currents. I live the tides.
My olfactory senses are overtaken by the smell of mackerel.

I am a mermaid coated with scales.
Thrashing. Breaching. Elusive.
Reveling in the tangy salt that seasons my skin.
I interrupt the chain of life; slicing; my art;
Deep, delicate cuts with a flick of the wrist.

I am from ‘quaint’.
Tourists ramble:
Small. Slow. An exhalation.
This is a different pace of life.
I graze like a Mainer surrounded by loved ones
As I gaze on my ‘home’. The place I love; the place that loves me.

I am from a bird’s eye view that embraces the glistening waters; the gently bobbing sails.
A silhouette of the West harbor fades finally in a grand gold that paints our faces with bliss.