On the Portland waterfront.
"Wharves with their warehouses sagging
on wooden slats, windows steamed up
and beaded with rain -- it's a wonder
weather doesn't wash them away. In time,
they seem to say, you'll be gone too,
your belongings left on a quay for the taking....''
From "Here,'' by Betsy Sholl, who lives in Portland and is a former Maine poet laureate.
