Genius of Creation

Generations of dessicated
fall foliage, the winter wreckage 
of sturdy summertime bracken, 
litters the forest floor
where in early spring a
faded monochrome of 
barely discernible shades
of dull ivory, beige, and 
tired taupe present as a
tapestry of Nature's waste
slowly transformed into 
compost enriching the soil
inviting succession and green
renewal of robust new life.
Coltsfoot and trout lily emerge
and flower, their sunny heads
bashfully following the sun
until the forest canopy
matures and the landscape
presents in the full glory of 
its creator's boldly imaginative 
genius of creation.

Disillusion

Not so very long ago
I was convinced 
that people, when
confronted by the reality
of a social need impacting
other people's lives
would respond with
instinctive compassion
generous to a fault.
I have since discovered
that outside the world
of fanciful delusion
lives the reality of
emotional distance
and stark disinterest
in the welfare of
others sharing a
universal social covenant.

Early Harvest

The sun edges through
clouds gleaming like
a silver dollar
as we dip our paddles
fluming runnels in the lake
rippling pearl sounds
and all around the water
reflects dark clouds.

There looses a crow's
dark taunt and a pair
rise like sooty rags
off the tops of the pines
circling this lake.

The lake silvers
in our wake on this
wind-blathering day
shoving our backs
so the canoe darts 
sleek as an otter
to a rock-littered inlet

where we beach. As
we poke slanted branches
the soil yields garlic
and the air blossoms
with its garish fragrance.
Wild strawberries hide

their insufficiency under
weeds as we greedily pick
for late afternoon jam.
Gulls screech riding crests
and updrafts as whitecaps
scatter the lake.

The clean feather-edge
of swallows slice
the storm-filled air
picking off insects
that skip our
unresisting skin.

Paul Hamburger

He was diagnosed
a slow learner
took forever to learn
      simple words
even then couldn't 
state his name.

One day he 
overheard someone say
his father's name
which was Ronald MacDonnell
and the child brightened
fondly tripped
'Papa Hamburger!'
off faltering tongue.

Now whenever
some interested person
asks
     as adults are wont to
     bending vertically
over the child
'what's your name, Son?'
he proudly proclaims
'Paul Hamburger!'

Although Paul is
     ecstatic
his mother still
wrings her hands.

 

Hiking McClosky Road

The road turns uphill    crowded
by maple and ash. Conifers long ago
logged out; the undergrowth thick
with fern and saplings. The
filtering sun transparents the green
of trembling aspen and a great beech

its bark the colour of elephants
whispers memory of forest giants.
An elm copse hosts a woodpecker
             thrumming a meal.
Wild orchids glow back shades of
the sun amidst time-riven boulders

broadloomed with lichen. The first
leaf offerings of fall lie cupping
last night's rain and we hike past
    a beaverpond, its waters murky. Our
rustling flushes a sandpiper whose

frightened wings startle the quiet
air. At the beavermeadow tall grasses
    lean past the wind and we hear a faroff
chickadee teasing. Further on there
is a lone crabapple tree bearing no

fruit but in its centre a birdsnest
      and nestled there, a scarlet apple.

His Psyche

He thinks of himself as
imperishable, capable yet of
meeting all challenges, his
attitude not much changed
over the decades. I also think
of him as indomitable in resolve,
his capacity and sagacity in
problem solving that of a
man of action. Yet I know 
there is one problem of existence
no one, not anyone has ever
solved for old age visits
everyone unbidden, and its
implacable companion, death
hovers close by the side of
those of venerable years. Yet
he remains adamant, he will do
what he avers must be done,
as he sees it. My equally adamant
response now has hardened to
over my dead body. For that
is what I prefer, to myself
perish than confront him
laid out on a funeral bier.

A Community

Suddenly a community appeared
where not long earlier a forest
and farmlands had been. The
wildlife moved out and the 
families moved into their gleaming
new homes. Young families and
young children who unlike their
parents harboured few suspicions
of their peers with different looks,
language and customs; they melded
seamlessly into a playful aggregation
of boisterous enthusiasm for games
and adventure. Soon enough, the
parents relented, recognizing in
others their very own selves with
slight variations that over time faded
from consciousness as the community
settled into complacent friendliness.
With one notable exception, one
family none of whom, parents or
offspring deigned to notice the
presence of their neighbours, any 
neighbours, satisfied with the fantasy 
of representing the only people of
note inhabiting the street; all others
transparent enough to look right
through. And so it was that many
years later when that superior family
dissolved into the parts of its sum
and their home listed on the real estate
market, no one seemed to notice.