Tag Archives: life

The Tree

The tree had lived forty years
Through summer wind, winter snow
Once supple, green; with the breeze it swayed
Now rigid, gray; to sandy soil it clung

The elderly logger tied a line twenty feet up
Pulled taught by he and a neighbor
A young forester cut a wedge into the trunk,
Lining up the fall

To the north a cabin
To the south power lines
To the west a shed
To the east a clear path

The forester gave his command
His chainsaw dug into the tree
It creaked, moaned; leaned to the South
Logger ran to the north, neighbor in tow
Tension on the line as they moved
It was enough
Cloud of dust as the tree hit the ground

The tree once stood hard against the wind
Now stacked in a pile; fuel for a fire
Returned to ash

Fire at Priest Lake

Lightning strikes the mountain forest

Days pass, embers smolder

Wind blows, a fire grows

Summer grass burst into flames

Fire spreads along the forest floor

Climbing into the trees

The scent of smoke ebbs and flows

Drifting toward the lake

Animals nervously sniff the air

Sensing danger, a migration begins

A death march, where resting may bring the end

Moving east, away from danger

Deer, elk, moose, bear, wolves, birds

Large and small, seeking fresh air and water

Weary and covered in soot

Crossing the highway, stunned and frightened

Vehicles stop, providing passage

Heads down, one foot following the other

A parade of souls seeking safe haven

The forest is home to the animals

Much of it cannot be saved

The animals are on the move and will not return

They will find a new place, a new home

Priest Lake Sandpiper

sandpiper

Trimmed the grass along our beach wall,

 Used a scythe to cut it down.

 I saw a brown bird so small,

 It made a piping sound.

 A long narrow beak and skinny legs,

 Protecting a small nest containing three eggs.

 It was a Sandpiper nest I had found.

 With kids and dogs the nest was in danger,

 I put up a structure to serve as a manger.

 Not long after to our delight,

 Those Priest Lake eggs hatched and the birds did take flight.

 The beach is not ours it is there to share,

 With our lake animal friends and those in their care.

 

Sunrise on Sherwood Beach

Sunrise over Sundance, streaming light into my room

Washes across my face, like sand on a deck chased by a broom

I could sleep another hour into the new day

But the sun announces it is time to awaken and play

Alas, for this day I have no plans

I shall enjoy quiet reflection on the Priest Lake sands.

Lake Time Wasting

For we, time is a wasting resource.

 Too much for the young, too little for the old.

 As time wastes away the enthusiasm and energy of our youth,

 All we might hope is we are in a place we want to be.

 No place does waste away time as does Priest Lake;

 And there is no greater place to be, and have time waste away.

 Terry Robinson

Gas Dock Girl

We stopped for gas not long ago,

 Served by Gas Dock Girl, with golden skin aglow.

 I pumped gas at Outlet forty years before,

Her mother worked at Elkins during the summer of seventy-four.

I looked into her eyes, it was her mother I saw.

I hid my blush, holding a hat against my cheek and jaw.

My wife asked me what could be wrong,

Just old memories dear, like a favorite song.

Terry Robinson