Earlier this summer, poet Richard Blanco issued a challenge to Boston Public Radio listeners: write a five-line poem about where you live, and share it with us. Many listeners did, capturing snapshots of their neighborhoods in their short "Zip Odes" — depicting everything from fall days to town meetings to elementary school art classes.

Blanco, the nation's fifth inaugural poet and author of the collection Boundaries, shared his favorites. Check them out below, and tune in to hear Jim Braude and Margery Eagan's attempts, too.

From Bruce Morgan: Concord, Massachusetts (01742)
How do you say it?
Insist THOR-eau is the only proper way.
Dude himself wouldn’t give
A fig.

From Mike Donnelly: Rockland, Maine (04841)
I just had a dream
That you were skating
On a pond in a glen far away
But I couldn’t reach

From Sharon Schneider: Mattapoisett, Massachusetts (02739)
Hot and humid every day
Showers pending
Brown grass, thirsty plants, parched ground waits
Heavens open up
Puddles form, streets flood, and earthworms drown on pavement

From Tiffany Call: Westminster, Massachusetts (01473)
Heat lightning fills summer nights.
Wakes me. Beckons me.
Come outside. Watch the storm with me.
My world- electric

From Kelan R. Koncewicz: Somerville, Massachusetts (02143)
Slumped in stiff metal chairs;
Community room.
Tenants, townies, veterans, families;
Nobody can agree.

From Alex Rosiewicz: Stow, Massachusetts (01775)
Fall’s the time for apples
All those city slickin’ apple pickin’ folks
Swarm around us like mosquitoes in summer
Till frost eliminates the nuisance

From Dara Gibbons, who submitted Zip Odes from third and fourth-grade summer school students at Arlington Public Schools. This one is from student Tess.
Paint dripping everywhere in
the room
It makes a work
Of art. Paint everywhere but canvas
Girls giggling, splattering paint.