Light Rising

Ancient woods nestle softly,
Beneath their down of glistening snow.
Imperceptibly, the Adirondack Dome rises,
The cloaked giant ascends,
Reaching toward the North Star, shining star,
Over millions of years.
Durant’s trains are silenced now,
And the logging camps are dormant.
But the mountains live and the conifers breathe.
Chains of lakes sparkle like glittering molten glass,
Moose River Plains run wild,
Animals forage and the black bear sleeps,
Sheltering, waiting.
Pines dressed in white lacy skirts surround
Wooden Camps glowing warmly from within.
This is the season of peace,
Of hope, of continuity, of life cherished,
Of expectancy,
Of renewal by a blessed light rising,
Making all one,
As it has always done.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.

Homesick

Too far from
pan-fried walleyed pike

and those sultry June nights
when we stoked the coals

as darkness
fell on top

the manic appeal
of loons.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.