Get Your Premium Membership

Hemlock Park Loons

When fog creeps in to sheathe the point, obscuring paths among the brush, unseen loons, hallooing one another, map out this realm of hemlock, rock, and water. Loon cries vivify fireside conjuring, old camper’s tales, for the point’s new children: they glimpse fabled elders, conveyers of craft and lore who made a mile or more of winding roadway through cut and cultivated trees. Loon cries reassure us as we sit in circled peace. The birds know where they are and so do we.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.