RUSSELL BUKER - POET

Russell Buker is a teacher at Shead High School in Eastport and lives on Birch Lane near Pleasant Lake here in Alexander. Russell’s ancestors settled in Weld and lived in that mountainous western Maine community for several generations. Then the mills of Wilton called Russell’s grandfather to Wilton, and that is where Russell had his earliest memories of Maine.

Here are two poems, one from Powdermill Pond and the second from Stone Cove. These collections of poems and others by Russell are available at Calais BookStore.

Quiet Places January Thaw

Other than the soft drench of our The rain fell lightly,

footsteps the field is now quiet. The bar way Soft as snow.

to the field has curled and rotted itself The outside silence danced

to sleep and the grass has run native in a flat panned row

from timothy to withdrew into it’s plump and the quiet in my room

back. In the corner of the field an old apple listened as though

tree ignores the coal-toes of popple silence motioned silence.

testing the field from across the wall. The tree With a cat like flow

has a feint, crooked blush, and no out in the wind cleared field

wonder, as its camouflaged secret stirred each silence seemed to go

and flew. The greatest quiet must have crouched and listened

been in that noise, for then I for the silence below

heard myself thinking and my tongue then rose and danced

drying and the feathers and leaves rattling among its fluid echo.

the crisp branches. But now the strain

of listening rings in my ears and your

hand stays soft in my imprint.

Making connections is an important part of my understanding of history. The connection between Weld and Wilton is much like the connection between Alexander and Woodland. How many of our ancestors moved from Alexander to Woodland to work in the mill? Now with better roads and cars, people are moving back to the rural communities and commuting to their jobs.

These poems connect me to living here in Alexander, past and present. I expect many readers have experienced a walk in that field or the silence of winter rains. I expect that many can picture the field and almost feel that January rain. jd