Mike Bayles Poet Narrative

Revelations, The Scene

Just outside Mountain, Wisconsin
the forest lies. It invites me inside
to hear the stories, it longs to tell.
Around a curve a puddle of water
from a fall of rain.
At each turn I never knew
what I would find.
A photo of a bear in the dark
is posted at the gas station.
The clerk said it is deep
within the forest when I
stopped inside for a snack.
No one can say for certain
where the forest ends.
I’m going inside to see
what it reveals. Another level
of secrets lies in undergrowth.
All trees stretch their arms
upward reaching for the sun.
I’m driving around the state
to find my time and place.
Lands once stripped, replanted
in a public works project
during the Great Depression
to give the land new life.
A glance through a crown
shows the sun as it shines on me.
Each morning asks me to start again
after I step outside the motel.

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