Two Trees

Two Trees, originally uploaded by Winged Foot.

I saw these trees in a foggy field at sunset on the way home from the AMC workshop near the Alexandria, NH town center.

- Two Trees -

Pals from birth.
Together through all seasons.
Never knowing a song or reason.
Through fog, cold wind, rain and blitzen.
Never counted as citizen'.
Ever present in our souls and our cravin'.
Perhaps with a foal or raven.
Never far from our eye.
Always here beneath our New Hampshire skies.

--- Mike, the Flawed poet, 01/09/2006.

I saw these trees in a foggy field at sunset on the way home from the AMC workshop on
Alexandria, NH.

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Here is a photo and poem about togetherness as we in New Hampshire and elsewhere around the northern hemisphere wait for the daylight hours to grow longer.

Noble Cairn II

Noble Cairn II, originally uploaded by Winged Foot.

- A Noble Cairn II -

Oh noble Cairn, where from here?
East or West? North or South?
Does this path lead to or fro?
Lead us up or down slope?
Onto Rock or Talus under tread?
Or more foot ballast ahead?

But, Hark! In the distance,
Would that clanging bell or slanging horn be?
In the mirk what do we see?
Through the foggy seas.
Would it be your sisters and brothers,
sitting ahead for me?

You lead us on, and on we go.
Over hill and fill,
Sedge and earth, rock-dust and dirt.
O'vr boulder and shoulder,
and near clover.

Remembering your sense as
we went a-clomping over pure white topping,
Seeing no path, or maybe a graph,
a cipher we could not decipher.
But there you were, giving us advice,
sometimes twice.

Now more than ever, we see you cleary
and deary just as you are.
Our friend, solid, simple and ever present,
in climbs so pleasant.

-- Mike (Winged Foot), 06/24/2006

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In the Last Fog of November

In the Last Fog of November, originally uploaded by Winged Foot.

In The Last Fog of November
Saw straight through into December.
It never occurred to me that I remember
The vibrant orange hues of Autumn's day past.
Crisp crunch of a MacIntosh last.
Or some yawing grin-grin-grin of a Jack-o-Latern cast.

Or of warm days in summer.
Sliced tomato and cucumber.
Of bicycle rides free and unencumbered
Relative blissful unimpeded slumber.

There were hikes in June & July and again.
September's slog up the Valley way.
There were were beach days in October.
Trips home and
Bicycle crashes in November.
Mourning Doves in covey's and then never.

These and so many other things
I now remember as I slog into December.

--Mike D. (Winged Foot) 30 Nov 2006