Month: August 2015

MOUNTAIN TOP EXPERIENCE

We have clickity clacked to the misty summit

Of New England’s tallest weather-wracked peak,

Cog after cog dropping into their sockets,

I accompanied by my kids and their kids

(Hoping we won’t slide back to our doom).

At the age of ten I first ascended the trail

That ran from the railroad base to the Lake

Of the Clouds to the tip-top and down the Jewel,

My mother in sneakers and black print dress

(The last ascent my parents tried).

But I got to know Mt. Washington well:

Repairing cairns in the Alpine Meadows,

Boulder-hopping down Huntington Ravine,

Traversing to Madison Hut and back,

And watching skiers bolt down Tuckermann’s.

I have grown fond of the ancient rock pile.

It was good to re-visit an old friend. 

PACING

On the first day of August I taste

My first ear of garden-fresh corn.

Not a single sweet kernel is wasted

And soon the whole earful is gone.

But with tears in my eyes I recall

A man who, perceptive and slow,

Savored each delicate morsel

As he nibbled his corn row by row.

He split measured logs for our stove,

Swung his ax in unhurried arcs

And moved our canoe with sure strokes

To reach our next campsite by dark.

Now as I hasten my days,

Willing the hours to pass,

I long for his deliberate pace

And the will not to live life so fast.

ON THE NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON

On the porch the women spoke

Of goddesses and wonder.

Behind the trees the moon arose

In glowing orange splendor.

From north and south and east and west

They called for strength and power

To meet life’s most exacting tests,

Lighten life’s darkest hours.

Then Luna, Goddess of the Moon,

Rose queenly in the night

To grant them her distinctive boon

Of clear and healing light.

She inspired them to journey on

Casting impediments off,

Aspiring to new horizons,

Daring to venture forth.