An old boat house in Maine on Lake Androscoggin.
A summer day in the 1930s. Two skinny boys. Brothers.
Curious, they rowed their boat under the lake door of the abandoned home.
Inside they climbed up stairs from the water to the landing.
One page from an old monthly calendar remained
tacked to the wall: January 1888.
Kept on his bookshelf for decades after,
its lamination crinkled, brown with age.
His brother gone now. The story faded.
His mind as well.
Two things were stolen during his life:
he took only one.
The Faded Calendar
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