Summer squash and snap-beans gushed all August, tomatoes in a steady splutter through September. But by October's last straggling days, almost everything in the garden was stripped, picked, decayed. A few dawdlers: some forgotten carrots, ornate with worm-trail tracery, parsley parched a patchy faded beige.
The current poet laureate of the state of Maine is Stuart Kestenbaum, who began his five-year term in 2016. Kestenbaum is the author of four books of poetry, the most recent being Only Now (Deerbrook Editions, 2014). His work has been featured in several literary magazines, including The Sun and The Belroit Poetry Journal, and he has read his work on Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac. Kestenbaum was the director of the Haystack Mountain School of Crafts in Deer Isle, Maine, for twenty-seven years, and is currently the chair of the American Craft Council.
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(Salt) A LOBSTER. Once out of the box The wooden box The metal box The box, the box, the box Dragged up from the salt Things don't feel too bad And then they do And then they don't (And waves)
It's summer, 1956, in Maine, a camp resort on Belgrade Lakes, and I am cleaning fish, part of my job, along with luggage, firewood, Sunday ice cream, waking everyone by jogging around the island every morning swinging a rattle I hold in front of me to break the nightly spider threads. Adlai Stevenson is