Maine Mud

Some of my shoes still have Maine mud on them.

They still stink of fear and hurt and shame,

Things that I planted in those seaside shores ,

And swore I’d never come back to reap their fruit.

But I’m afraid some of it stuck.

Some of it’s got it’s hold on my heart

And I still shake and I still cry.

And I know I’m beyond it.

I know that I am strong

But those muddy Maine shores

Seem to have stuck to me.