On the Trail with the Local Poet Laureate

They assemble at appointed hour
three poets toting pens and cameras.
It was to be an ekphrastic experience, visual artists and
writers wrestling works from respective muses
But the weather gods decide to make this a gray and dismal
morning, dank rather than cool, gnawing wind invading clothing
so the three alone comprise this Earth Day contemplation

One poet decides to solo and takes the path to an old root cellar, recently
cleaned up, evidence that where he treads was not always park land
but a full time community striving to make a mark on this
jut of land closer to the North Pole than to equator’s warmth.

The other poets team to walk the year old poetry path along the Monarch Trail
One, local poet laureate, has had poetry in her veins for decades
the other still in awe and learning. Both picking their way carefully
over bedrock, some slick with moss

They discover ten poetry platforms on wooden posts. All around
self-pruned birches, some finally reduced to horizontal resting
on forest floor. The poets converse about family, friends, the wonders
of all things nature, this friendship, their walking sticks giving
confidence in this uneven stone yard.

No birdsongs accompany this morning saunter. Time after time they stop to wonder
at mushrooms, moss, marcescent beech babies. The poets dutifully record
their findings with cameras and pens. They take comfort in the community of writer and
the community of nature to which they belong

Trail leads to wood’s edge and open meadowland. A large tree reminds them of
a Navajo storyteller surrounded by children, tree’s young branches ringing ancient trunk
They have found poems penned by friends and youngsters who might carry on the craft

All too soon trail ends near its beginning. Each poet knows she will return, with other
companions, to share more glories of words and nature.