Wild, is your nature,
Yet, in infinitely perfect
Balance.
There was a time,
When I might have taken you
For granted,
But never now,
Now, is when every minute with you,
Breaks my heart,
Both with my human transience,
And the permanence,
Of your beauty.
I cannot capture you,
Here, or
Ever.
I can only be,
In you,
As you are in me,
Here, and
Now.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.

During our own Tang Dynasty we stirred
space-age orange powder in hot water
on cold mornings beside Johns Brook
stomping our feet for warmth outside
the Howard Lean-to.

My bro Matt’s wife Ann wanted to take a dip
in the brook, more like a small river
here at the base of the high peaks.

For Matt it came down to “I will
if you do” and Ann did do.

Later we packed-out by the well-worn
trail we packed-in on, but by then
it was a different way.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.

Nightfall

Fern-sprigged comforter,
Immerses and caresses sun-blushed skin.
White lace curtains billow,
In soft obeisance to an August breeze.
Sunbeams filter sparkling motes,
Into a wood-beamed bedroom sanctuary,
As a bejeweled lake ushers in the soft sound,
Of waves splashing a sandy shore.
Somewhere in the fiery pink, orange and blue horizon,
Haunting, triumphant calls of loons vibrate, emanate,
Owning the dusk, and heralding the setting sun.
All is well as Nature sounds its reign,
Over the cool, pine-scented summer night.