is a long walk through the forest
to come upon this place.
The path lined with ancient stone walls
and trees bent with age.
The ground covered in pine needles and cones,
mushrooms peek out from fallen leaves.
trail ends abruptly, at the water's edge.
The comfort of nature is all around.
A sparse beach filled with stones,
treasures of many shapes and colours.
granite boulder serves as my seat,
my toes dangle in the cool water.
Peaceful this place.
No cars, airplanes, no people.
closed eyes, I can picture
the people who used to call this water home.
Children running, laughing at some game.
Women hanging the laundry to dry.
The scent of apple pie heavy in the air
and, I can hear the clicking of hooves
upon the long ago gravel road.
Nature now consumes this place
and replaced those sights and sounds
with those of her own.
A gentle hum fills my ears, a concoction
of birds and insects - squirrels and chipmunks.
Around me the arms of the mother enfold.
up at the azure sky, filled with cloud
an eagle flies, circles, searches.
I know that he sees me and I wonder
what he is thinking.
© Karen Adams 2005