The Big Rock: Nature Series #3

Steely grey it rises along
A country road veiled by
Trees shedding their
Summer finery.

A cottage sized hulking
Presence living there since
Cold white masses left
Scars and boulders.

This huge rock stands
Alone in a field of
Yellow flowers and
Autumn’s glow.

Like a sentinel through
Centuries it watched the
Passing of aboriginals
Pioneers and machines.

Native folk and pioneers
Must have noticed and
Used it as a marker on
The old time river trail.

Rare is the walking person
Rarer still the pausing driver
Who goes up to the solid rock
To stand next to the past.

Those who do are treated
To strength and silence
To rough and smooth
Surfaces carved by time.

A coolness lives there
Perhaps an ancient remnant
Of the passing ice as it
Left this great stone.

I stop often to consult the rock.
Massive and steady it listens
Words of sympathy are unspoken
But shallow worries fall away.

It’s said that stone is a living thing
Someday I hope to hear it sing.

October Morning: In Memoriam R. V.

October winds shake seasonal
Death from the trees sending
Waves of debris rustling around
An empty back yard.

Last night’s news leaves an
Empty spot at the family
Table and a void in all of
Our saddened hearts.

We look on as life sends good
And bad without regard for
Changing seasons hopeless or
Hopeful or indifferent.

At today’s end rest will come
Memories will be shaken through
Our mind as sleep eludes us
But only for a few moments.

Those moments will fleetingly tell
A story of days past and laughter
Shared yes mostly laughter
Always shared with joy.

Apple Pie

There’s an apple pie baking
All cinnamon smelling
Full of autumn’s pickings
And the house is alive with
That warmth.

Apples from a farm way
Up in the North Country
Are the heart of the creation
Crisp and clean
Hand picked and fresh.

Woe to the calorie counters
Those who refuse to savor
A gift so fine and true
Worshipping at the altar
Of cholesterol free food.

What could be so bad?
Some fruit and flour
Sugar pure and fine
Spices butter lemon
Lovely stuff melded gently.

But oh the fat and oh
The ice cream on the
Side of that warm
Delicious dish so
Rich and good.

One slice only I
Promise with fingers
Crossed. I’ll give the
Rest away tomorrow
I lie sincerely.

Damn it’s good.

The Dying Goes So Slow

They sit a death watch
Now for the not so old
Man lying still slowly
Slowly breathing
So close to the end

His wife years younger
Confused yet sure of all
That must be done in hard
Days looming ahead and
Seeing painful relief.

Grown children gather
Bewildered watching the
Strong man laid so low
Sons and daughter
Waiting waiting.

Strangers come to the house
Helpers along this final path
Caring and careful
They’ve seen it all
Many times.

The dying goes so slow
A list of those to call
Sits ready on the table
Another list of final
Things to do.

Far away we wait for word
No comfort to take or give
We go about our daily
Business as the dying
Goes so slow.

We wait not watching.

Winter Forecaster: Nature Series 17

Today my walk was
Interrupted as I paused
To watch some
Woolly Bears those
Colorful crawlers as
They crossed my path.

Pyrrharctia Isabella
Science books say
Soon to be a sunlight
Shade of yellow
Flying towards my
Back porch light.

Grandmother said
Brown bands wide
You’ll play outside
Brown bands thin
You’ll be
Staying in.

Harbinger of winter’s
Strength or sign of
Nature’s power to
Renew I watch
As you make your
Way to greener grass.

Today furry friend
Your brown band seems
Very wide.

Mountain Top Missing: Nature Series

We climbed the mountain
With the help of a V6 since
Debilitating age won’t
Let us walk.

We took a road that switched
One way then another
In seemingly endless
Tight fitting esses.

Then down we rode
Into a gray canyon and saw
The mountain top had
Gone missing.

Stepping out into silence
We turned a slow circle
Marveling at sheer rock cliffs
On three sides.

A history is written in those
Cliffs etched by generations
Of miners taking layer upon layer
Of that living mountain.

Ages of rock were peeled
Off and ground into stony waste
And garnet crystal to feed an
Industrial need.

As our gaze slides down the vertical
Scene it stops to see new trees on
Narrow ledges then further down
Two ponds glimmer.

This canyon floor is littered with
The chaff of mineral harvesting
But ponds deep and pure are
Reclaiming the land.

A summer’s growth takes the path
Towards autumn and flowers bloom
Still in rocky shadows where birds
Sing echoing hallelujahs.

Fish and frogs jump and ripple
The surface of what is now a new
Mountain top as it evolves shrugging
Off the marks of men.