Kayaking on Long Pond

Oars dip and glide and
then we slide through blue,
glass water, each stroke
mesmerizing and transporting
us to a world
of blue herons, box turtles, water lilies,
owls, mountains and refuge.
A tinge of wild grapes in the air,
and in the distance the smell
of burning leaves catches the wind.
The cut of oars slash
the surface, and we float
silently, leaving
the everyday world
to enter postcard scenes
and a world of our best imagining…

By Sharon Harmon

kayaker on lake


I have lived deep in the woods of Royalston, Massachusetts, USA, for the last 28 years. Every morning I awake to a beautiful natural setting which changes daily, keeping me tuned in to the many wonders around me and the ones yet to be discovered. I am a poet and a freelance writer who writes for The Uniquely Quabbin Magazine. Contact Sharon Ann Harmon Publishing.

Photo by the author

Ashes to Ashes

Building slash piles
in the woods
bending to broken limbs
we haul and drag, pile and stash

our muscles stretch in fluid motion
limbs become extensions
of gnarled root bound undergrowth
woodsy moss, ferns and powdery

mushrooms leave a decaying
dirt odor in the air – ashes to ashes
leaves to dust
at the ends of our lives

we recycle our bodies
never ending resurrection
transgressions and souls,
mired into cool silent forests

By Sharon Harmon

moss on trees and branch pile in forest


I have lived deep in the woods of Royalston, Massachusetts, USA, for the last 28 years. Every morning I awake to a beautiful natural setting which changes daily, keeping me tuned in to the many wonders around me and the ones yet to be discovered. I am a poet and a freelance writer who writes for The Uniquely Quabbin Magazine. Contact Sharon Ann Harmon Publishing.

Photo by Aleksander Bołbot