Andrew Birden, an award-winning photojournalist, has written articles
and poetry about the men and women who live, work and play in the most
beautiful and unforgiving wilderness in the world.   His work has been
translated into both French and English.  He lives with his wife and two
sons in Fort Kent, Maine, along with two cats, a dog, and one annoying
moose.

Rumpelstiltskin

I

Humble

Muddied

Covered in ashes,

Spread my arms in supplication.

If there is a gift, allow me to open it.

If there is a flow, let me be in it.

Permit me to wallow in the yellow.

Allow me to pronounce your name,

This work may never be mine.

I cannot spin chopped straw into fiery metal,

Yet I am the only one in this tower.