Words are lenses: Cape Cod Times winning poets are 'Prodding the Seaweed' and more

Editor's note: This story was changed Aug. 23 to correct poet Campion Damiano's name.

The words are lenses as winners of this month’s Cape Cod Times Poetry Contest capture images of the world around them.

And what a world it is.

“Wild Fennel” by Kathleen Casey. “A Beach Moment” by Joan Kenney, “Brewster Community Garden” by Campion Damiano, “Prodding the Seaweed” by Anne Speyer, “Strength of a Father“ by Latina Bohemian and “Gray Whale Rising” by Elizabeth Fletcher all touch on a lasting image of the world around us.

And, once again, what a world it is.

Cape Cod and the Islands never cease to provide new material ― each passing season a brand new book of colors, sounds and scents to be writ upon first the heart and then the page.

We thank all the poets who share their love of words with us and our gratitude goes to the panel of professional poets who diligently read each poem ― with no name attached ― to find the best. Special thanks goes to our coordinator, who chooses to remain anonymous, but does the yeoman’s work receiving poems and passing them onto the judging panel.

***

Kathleen Casey is a member of The Steeple Street Poets and The Mill Pond Poets. Her poems have been published in books, newspapers and online. A retired teacher from Barnstable, she is grateful to live alongside an estuary, where she tends gardens, feeds birds and takes photos. She admires the poets W.S. Merwin, Derek Walcott, and Mary Oliver.

Inspiration for the poem: The natural world offers hope, comfort and opportunities to reflect and dream. On this summer morning, I related the vitality of wild fennel and the eagerness of young finches in my yard to a passionate desire for a lover’s return.

Wild Fennel Outside My Bedroom Window

Foeniculum vulgare

By Kathleen Casey

Your tall gray-green stalks

tower over tiger lilies, whose new blossoms replace

Those which have opened, shriveled then fallen,

each stem soon standing bare

among a tangle of dry leaves

at the garden’s edge by the trees.

In contrast, you are crowned

with an inverted umbrella flowerhead,

whose supporting spokes hold a bright citron bouquet of florets that rise

toward the sky in exuberance,

determined to survive

until frigid winds arrive.

Far-off thought for sure on this hot, humid day,

where heavy stillness reigns, excepting the chirp

and wing flutter of fledged finches begging for food

and my wild, impatient heart

That yearns

for your return.

***

Joan Kenney writes: “I am a happily retired administrative assistant, enjoying a quiet life in South Yarmouth.”

Inspiration: My poem was inspired by a feeling of gratitude for living in this magical place, where the landscape often feels like a person to me. A shoutout goes to Judith Partelow (poet, teacher and author of several books, including the latest, "Passion and Provocation") who gave workshop participants a prompt to write a poem about a memory. This poem was my response.

A Beach Moment

By Joan Kenney

The sun warmed my face after days of late winter gray;

a stiff breeze carried sea smells, rousing my aching body.

Gulls circled and swooped, the tide a soft gurgle.

The rocks spoke clearly into my silence: “You are never alone.”

I breathed in the truth of it, and breathed out contentment.

*****’

Campion Damiano attends Nauset Regional Middle School where he enjoys creative writing and poetry. Sophie Cabot-Black is a contemporary favorite poet. Campion lives in Brewster with his family.

Inspiration for Damiano's poem comes from his mother's bold colorful flowers in the community garden where she joins with neighbors in their shared vision and purpose to grow vibrant flowers, herbs and vegetables and build meaningful connections with one another.

Brewster Community Garden

By Campion Damiano

My mother’s French marigolds

Bloom bright, busy and orange

Come summer,

At the community garden

She tends side-by-side

With other green-thumb

Neighbors.

Friendships flourish

Like colorful wildflowers

And spread warmth of the season

In the spirit of fellowship.

*******;

Anne Speyer writes, “I taught high school English for 30 years in Williamstown, MA, and then was the director of the South Dennis Library for almost 16 years, along with tutoring, teaching community education courses, giving talks and editing books on the Cape. I’ve always loved to write, including frequent op-ed pieces for the Berkshire Eagle and other Berkshire publications when I lived in that corner of the state.

Inspiration: I lost a wonderful husband almost three years ago, so have been shaping a new chapter. He loved life so the best way to honor him has been to go on loving it, to look past the wreckage left after a death to the treasures still out there to find.

Prodding the Seaweed

By Anne Speyer

I move down the wet packed strip of in-between

Just out of reach of lacy ocean fingers

but not high enough to battle heavier shifting sand

that makes walking too much like getting through days

when I cross something off my list

only to find it not really done after all.

It’s a good place to be.

There are treasures on either side

demanding I pay attention to them and not anything else.

To my left

a small blueish pebble

has drifted

into the embrace of a white half moon

Near my right foot

A tenacious wisp of dune grass winds its way

around a stick shaped like a curl of sausage

Just as I learned one painful kindergarten morning

that mixing all those beautiful colors would not give me a rainbow

I know now that a sand dollar

makes a dull and lonely trophy on my bureau

but I still haven’t learned not to prod at the seaweed with my driftwood cane

hoping to find what?

I don’t know.

Maybe something

shiny and magical

with three wishes for the answers I increasingly lack

and urgently need.

Under one

tangled, bulbous clump

I find a condom

shriveled and sordid

carelessly dotting a landscape

that should be all mermaids and mother-of-pearl.

But farther on

prodding is the only reason

I find a tiny perfect snail shell

kissed smooth by insistent waves.

***

C. Hernandez, who goes by the pen name Latina Bohemian, is a creative writer who enjoys the art of storytelling. She describes poetry as a great source where you can connect with others.

Inspiration: I wanted to capture a childhood memory that would influence my adult life. A tribute to my late father, the goal was to illustrate his brave nature and gratitude towards him.

Strength of A Father

By Latina Bohemian

It was an unforgettable day.

When the waves pulled my feet

And a strong hand reached towards me.

My naive body didn’t disappear in the deep sea.

A tenacious man is the reason why I still breathe.

My father, who died when I was almost thirteen,

His memory will always be cherished.

***

Elizabeth Fletcher’s poems have appeared in The Cape Cod Times, “The San Antonio Review,” “Spaceports & Spidersilk,” “Schuylkill Valley Journal,” “Ariel Chart” and “Book of Matches” among others. She was a 2023 Rhysling Award nominee and a 2021 Pushcart prize nominee. Her Philadelphia Inquirer publications include essays on sea turtles and snowy owls. She has been vacationing in Brewster with her family since the 1980s.

Inspiration: I was thrilled that a gray whale had been sighted near Nantucket this spring ─ two hundred years after being hunted to extinction in the Atlantic. Softening of summer ice in the Northwest passage is a sign of climate change, but I see hope in the gray whale’s ability to adapt and perhaps establish a new presence in the Atlantic.  When we go whale watching in August, I’m hoping to see one!

Gray Whale Rising

By Elizabeth Fletcher

Summer ice broke up.

You nosed your way eastward

wove through the Arctic Archipelago

burst into open water.

Did your heart skip a beat?

Did you call back to your Pacific pod

clicking, singing, bubbling

I found the way home?

Centuries ago, fishermen heard your ancestors whistling and moaning

imagined they were mermaids─ lures to a watery doom

called them “devil fish,” harpooned them

hunted them until─ they vanished from this ocean.

But suddenly

here you are again!

Shocking, surprising, thrilling us

more magical than any mermaid.

Defying the odds

cruising the Stellwagen

hanging around Nantucket

summering at the Cape!

I crave just one glimpse of your sleek gray self

swimming, diving, breaching, slapping your flukes

showing the world your new beginning

sparking electric airwaves of joy.

Can you hear us cheering?

Are you clicking, singing, whistling

calling to your pod

Come on home?

This article originally appeared on Cape Cod Times: Words are lenses: Cape Cod Times winning poets are 'Prodding the Seaweed' and more