Long Adirondack Poems

How unparticular the day had particularly been,
On March the third of two-thousand and eighteen,
For the caretaker at an historic Adirondack Inn,
Had lacked company, and therefore, dopamine.

 ‘Twas Sunday when all the guests had fled,
From either...

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Won’t you please take me back
To the brown couch at my Gramma’s house 
With the big gold-framed antique mirror over it
And hand me Grampa’s old transistor radio
Covered in leather with glorious knobs
That brought me the...

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Absolute science and art of being whole
           at one and under no delusion that
           ...

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Alone, surrounded by seventeen million humans who call New York home
In a rut, depressed, searching in pain and in vain for hope

A crisp fall day, I venture north to play
The Adirondack valley, mountains borne from...

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The Appalachian Trail is quite a long path.
Not many can go the whole way.
For those not content to do the math
It’s five million strides, so they say.

Most hikers elect to go part of the way.
A...

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...His performances went for hours,
even when people drifted off,
he’d kept playing in the tavern
regardless of what others thought.

He would wind down like some old clock,
sometime playing straight through the night,
then just stand up and wander...

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In the green Adirondack foothills lies
the haven of our old summer camp,
once a place of adventure and outdoor joy,
and the loud cries of precocious scamps,
their energy you never could tamp,
scurrying ’round on small, rapid feet,
leaping...

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I was out walking on a trek
through forested Adirondack hills,
looking for a good place to camp,
to drop my pack and just chill.

It was a weekend excursion,
and I’d already done eight miles,
seeking out the kind of...

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a young boy playing with his friends 
at the top of a snowy hill
(one fashioned from a golf course, which with its deep dives &
cuts made for an exciting & dangerous fight down & around...

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Peter (my bf) and I are at Heraclee beach for the weekend.
It’s a little sliver of heaven, about 11 miles south of Saint Tropez.
It’s too early in the season to swim - being breezy and...

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Preface:  Written for my parents on their 50th wedding anniversary

Where the Smoke Goes 

I went to the place where the smoke goes, from all our blown out candles.
I found pounds of Cape Cod beach...

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An ordered massif of concrete
in the green Adirondack range,
crumbling Greek amphitheater,
it’s presence strikes the mind as strange.

The chips and cracks throughout the tiers,
the weather worn orchestra shell,
a dry fountain before the stage
where grand tales performers...

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Away from the world
from the hustle and bustle
making friends with the residents
tucked in
among the cattails and bank of elephant ears
sitting in the dainty, mahogany lean-to
It seems it is just the screen that prevents me from...

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Meanwhile, our troop moved on down the trail.
One more bear episode needs be told.
We arrived at the next stop with out fail.
It was late evening and beginning to get cold.

Two of us went to the...

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SEPTEMBER 19, 2019

We were deep in the forest
on our way to Tupper Lake
It was an early fall morning full of
sunshine and song from a beautiful
Spanish singer whose soulful caress
can cause a tearful recognition that
it’s a...

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Underneath the looming hemlocks,
the incline makes each step a strain,
up sandy earth and broken stone,
but I see sunlight up ahead.

Emerge upon a high ridgeline,
underfoot now is all bedrock,
scraggle pines peak through its big cracks,
throw shadows,...

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God was so pleased with his six days of creation
The seventh day He declared a day of rest
Bound to have some heavenly
Well-deserved relaxation

As soon as He woke up
He brewed a cup of java and 
Set...

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The sun hides behind the rippling wave-like clouds
The wind slinks like a hungry cat
quiet and soft not bending my red zinnias
heart shaped flowers in my front yard
And the day is an icecube in summer.

I sit...

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At the foot of the massive massif bluffs which bounce atop upstate New York,
The air is thick with suburban smog bottled beneath the mountains' unpopped cork.

The fumes from factories of the foothill folk have feigned...

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Hudson Valley, New York


Oh, Hudson Valley, place that I call home,
you hug the river from which came your name.
On fertile banks, the settlers came to roam
and stayed to prosper and your land proclaim.

Your winding Hudson...

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Soft leaves underfoot, mosaics of nature
Sleeping in shadows of yawning maples
Beneath these stretching branches I roam
Foot steps in rhythm with a woodpecker’s cadence
Humming to the harmony of dawn’s cool breeze

Sunlight weaves past distant mountain peaks
Warming...

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Shimmering in a chilly mist,
skyscrapers overlooking NYC.
August left into September's cooler mornings,
schoolchildren dressed in plaid and Hush Puppies.

In Central Park the leaves are a green-yellow,
squirrels scurry to store acorns.
Pretzel vendors appear as joggers feel
relieved from...

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There is a house on Nashatuck hill in Concord
with beautiful open spaces
It was built in the 1930s
and it has an Adirondack style porch that looks out over 
a small valley and Concord center
The house has...

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A polite rain
joined me briefly
before heading uptrail
to leave me standing, alone,
in a suddenly steaming forest.


I wrote this on a hike in the Adriondacks to  to Mt Marcy, the highest mountain in New York State....

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I lie back in our Adirondack chair,
And feel the soft breeze over sunset waves,
Drowsiness claims my senses. and
I imagine that ship in the distance I see
Shining in the last bit of day
Is my captain coming...

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