Louise Winchenbach's first poems were about her childhood and her divorce as she tried to process the pain she was experiencing. Several were written as her mother died of cancer. Now things are "lighter" and reflected in the fun poetry interspersed with the former hard stuff. Many of these are written about the fishermen of New Harbor and Monhegan evoking memories of her childhood in a rural Maine fishing community. Out of the Gilded Frame is a collection of Louise Winchenbach's poems.
About the Author
Louise Winchenbach, was born in Waldoboro, Maine and is the mother of two grown daughters, Jessi and Vanessa. She came home to Maine seven years ago and began writing about the State she loves and the Mainers who have touched her life. Louise volunteers at the Cumberland County Jail, The Root Cellar and Missio Dei Church in Portland. She has a strong faith and enjoys playing the fiddle, running, art, her three Sable Burmese cats, Monhegan, and the stories farmers and fishermen have to tell.
Reviews
The gritty energy of this voice is like sand in your shoe: you stop, you take notice. What you find is Icky, "the wretched cat / loping from the back / of the general store /. . . unlicked / dull black fur /. . . an escapee from / clothes dryer hell," yet nonetheless a mysterious object of love. What you find is a flooded basement, emblem of a life that "drifts in the current / shredded Christmas tree paper / a single Birkenstock." The poet's eye glows; she wants to see, to feel everything—whether it be terror or wonder, flight or failure. She is urgent; and like a true poet, she demands our urgency as well.
—Dawn Potter, author of Boy Land & Other Poems
About the Author
Louise Winchenbach, was born in Waldoboro, Maine and is the mother of two grown daughters, Jessi and Vanessa. She came home to Maine seven years ago and began writing about the State she loves and the Mainers who have touched her life. Louise volunteers at the Cumberland County Jail, The Root Cellar and Missio Dei Church in Portland. She has a strong faith and enjoys playing the fiddle, running, art, her three Sable Burmese cats, Monhegan, and the stories farmers and fishermen have to tell.
Reviews
The gritty energy of this voice is like sand in your shoe: you stop, you take notice. What you find is Icky, "the wretched cat / loping from the back / of the general store /. . . unlicked / dull black fur /. . . an escapee from / clothes dryer hell," yet nonetheless a mysterious object of love. What you find is a flooded basement, emblem of a life that "drifts in the current / shredded Christmas tree paper / a single Birkenstock." The poet's eye glows; she wants to see, to feel everything—whether it be terror or wonder, flight or failure. She is urgent; and like a true poet, she demands our urgency as well.
—Dawn Potter, author of Boy Land & Other Poems
