Great Regulars: Thirty years later,

I find those waves while driving are one of the treasures of back-road traveling in Maine.

In the following poem, Wesley McNair explores the full dimensions of what we are doing when we wave, from our waves goodbye to the waves from behind the steering wheel.

from Elizabeth W. Garber: Village Soup: A Year of Poetry from a Wealth of Maine Poets: Heading down the road with a wave or honk

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