COMBAT PAPER
ON THE COAST OF MAINE  2.

EARLY ROCK-BOUND BLUES

     Almost the end of the first day . . .
     should be a happy day,
     twelfth anniversary and
     beautiful, rock-bound coast . . .
     I left my love in the lurch:
     for the best of reasons, maybe . . .
     to maybe make a difference
     and make a new life . . .
     but doing my duty seems
     like summer vacation and
     my aged soul's anguished
     and lost and alone . . .

     When I get back gotta get a job, 
     make some dough, make some bread,
     take somethin' home to my wife 
     an keep on workin' till I'm dead . . .


AFTER THE SECOND DAY
(MANDATORY FUN DAY)

     So we hiked the Great Head Trail
     and plunged into the Atlantic at
     Sand Beach, mixed copious sweat
     and salt and sand, to look off
     the edge of America to find,
     on the side of a rocky slope with
     the sea all around, that it was
     Sarah's birthday:  we proceeded
     to act goofy, take pictures on 
     the edge of a cliff, and marvel,
     what a cool place to be
     on your birthday . . .
     strenuous Tuesday:
     turned to quiet time with
     intermittent community reflection,
     revelation and celebration,
     Eli's chile and birthday cake
     and mosquitos . . .


WORKING WANDERING WEDNESDAY

     The beater in action and
     outdoors, pulling sheets, including
     a batch of Wayne Erb's 1950's green fatigues.
     Pressing sheets under a truck tire
     then loading the dry box:  all
     the nitty-gritty of papermaking.
     Meanwhile, interviews have begun
     for film/fundraising, who knows
     what . . . I'm just an artist clueless
     to fate, the possible, the inevitable . . .

     Cooked dinner:  maybe not
     the worst burritos in the world,
     but among friends who are both
     kind and hungry . . .
     Then to Bar Harbor:
     for a meeting and ice cream
     and a stroll with the tourists,
     bought cigars  and a root beer float . . .