October Field Journal: Salisbury Kame Terraces

OCTOBER FIELD JOURNAL
Kame Terraces, Salisbury


Once rivers limined the stone mountains
with gravel and sand.
Below, the ice-blocked valley;
across, the wild flow of melt.

Three kinds of oak.
Witch hazel and teaberry
undergrow the logged-over
never-plowed land.

So much time, 
yet not enough time.

I want to be like a river
on the edge of the ice—
letting go as I can,
holding whatever I must hold.




I know "limined" wasn't a word. It is now.

SEPTEMBER FIELD JOURNAL: KINGSLAND BAY

SEPTEMBER FIELD JOURNAL

KINGSLAND BAY

What is your name and what

do you know and what

together can we do?

Folded, weighted, shifting,

broken and remade,

the layers hidden underneath.

And where on this map

of shifting stone

do we belong?

Come walk and name

this place, this very place,

this weather and these trees:

limestone bluff,

the edge edged with white cedar

—and the rain.

And when the blowdown comes

may we trust 

our own entangled roots?