Change is inevitable even if slow, ways
Of Mainers, tedious like winter-rising
Sun, movement over ocean horizons on
Cold dark nights, when breath steams
In closed-off bedrooms, blankets tacked
Over windows, wind shuttering plastic-
Wrapped back porch, snow knee-deep,
Traps and buoys tarp-covered.
Of course we resist change and damage
Seawater does to lobster boats. With
Fresh optimism, we replace sections of
Marine plywood, apply primer in warm
Sun, finish coats of shining white, with
Through-bolted expectations, repairs
Should last years of wave pounding
Might, soaking wind-driven spray.
Tonight, skies are crystal clear, stars just
Out of arm’s reach, moon bright finger-
Nail crescent, indicating where sun shines
Brightly, the other side of Mother Earth.
Her winter stepchildren, Mainers wait
For spring, mornings at Stonington diner,
Drinking coffee hot and strong enough to
Tarnish stainless-steel hardware.
With the pickup truck loaded with lobster
Traps, lines and buoys, I can feel change,
Negotiating winding roads, windshield
Streaked in blinding morning sun. After
Wind and tide broke up ice last week,
Change is in the air, lines at local grocery,
Neoprene gloves on sale, quick smoke and
Nod of familiar sea-determined faces.
All winter we anticipated this warming,
Weathering change, early lobster season,
Our livelihood for generations. With
Boat batteries charged, engines start,
Clattering diesels hot exhaust, swapping
Out longer trap lines, trucks unloading on
Public docks, more pristine lobster boats
Roaring past spruce-clad islands.
Anticipating an early Maine lobster season,
see this article in the “Portland Hearld Press.”