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Cosmo's Moon

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The only problem with 'Moonstruck' is Cosmo's moon could never be so large in winter, stand for luck. Mid-winter sledding brought joy snow, speed, although the kids were beautiful none were boys. Walking the boundaries, and the old field boundaries. Aged maples, barbed wire past the cambium. Northern hardwood all the way, except less than an acre scotch pine plantation and a few primeval spruce. Pendant spruce cones in tree tops colonizing the old field too. Conifers a primitive civilization. Lyonia has red, scaleless buds. Shrub or small tree, maximum height 12 feet. It's a heath, Ericaceae. Small, white, bell-like flowers become seamed capsules, similar to but smaller than laurel, Kalmia. The buds had me thinking red chokeberry, Rosaceae, but of course the fruit was completely wrong for a rose. A timber stand improvement now in the scotch pine would encourage tall even straight trees, a cathedral. The maples on the upper rocky slopes where the skidders couldn't or wouldn't go are impressive as eagles', hawks' nests. Mid-summer, Spiraea, field of pink flowers fully encircled by mountain ranges. Bees working them. Nancy, the broker, coming at five. These 160 acres, a dream, are unnecessary. Offer 500 dollars per acre. Not an investment, a sanctuary. Backed against the Taconic ridge, real moon rising.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

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Date: 4/30/2015 3:30:00 PM
I know you are a very good poet after reading this poem. It is very strong, filled with amazing imagery. SKAT
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