i fly to Maine on Tuesday

the frigid home of my

ancestors how i love

it from a distance but

in winter that cold hurts

the skin although the

quiet is exquisite and

this bad weather keeps

tourists and Californians

like me away except in summer

i will feed on the endurance it

has provided me, talk into

the cold nights with my only

most loved sister and do

small chores for my aging

parents as they contemplate

enduring a while longer

loving Maine though they

lived most of their adult

lives in the tropics of Brazil

where they spoiled me

for New England winters


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