Part I

it was a sunny day
it was a rainy day
chicago to michigan
and up north
at once warmed
by a brilliant sun
then
bombarded by a
sudden
torrential downpour
in and out
of joy and promise
to gloom and melancholy

the week began with
ominous foreboding
mixed with
hope and happiness
and would continue thusly
seeking wellness checks
those who’d gone before
who’d helped to pave
our separate roads
which brought us
here today
they
have accomplished much

and now await
the challenges of
older age
of lonely solitude
interspersed
with love
with genuine
appreciation
and the sun
and the rain
exist
in harmony

Part II

the crowds don’t gather here
save some event of rough
outdoorsmanship
the way is clear
the woods are silent
motorized conveyances
have a separate place to run
and thrill    –    not here
among the ferns that form
the faux floor of this forest
my forest
this place of quiet
this place of my youth

a protected space
and down the banks to
rich and mucky earth of
gordon’s creek
away from fixed
and stable trails
the water pure and cold
it was
and is, my first love
sure, and most at home
among the trees
and me
and no one else

Part III

it was a rougher place
back then
primordial to me
the steps descending down
to iargo springs
had always been there
but now?
a boardwalk maze
will weave and thread
and intertwine the walk
the logs across the mucky parts
are gone
are strewn about

these lengths of tree trunks
now useless and rotting
so, atop the highbanks
a sign marks the time
primeval exploration
ceased
and it became forevermore
post-iargo springs boardwalk days
we can’t go back
the age of guardianship is upon us
the era of pragmatism  –  gone
those were
pre-iargo springs boardwalk days

Part IV

just seven days
of pilgrimage
a sojourn
to our roots
a tarriance
of sorts
we saw our past
we saw our future
who we were
who we are
the lasting
truest view
what we’d become

and on the seventh day
drained
spent
satisfied
time to head home