Dirt roads wind with hours’ distance
And a green canopy stretches,
Suspended above the bare core of trees.
Pine nettles rest year long,
Settled into their collective bed.
Still water fingers the shore,
Smoothing out its stress lines,
Imbedded in the granite lake floor.
Here, towering mountains with impairing storms,
Wild wind, and impetuous fog
Stands in the crystal clarity
Given by reality.
When night comes, bringing with it
A dark unimpeded with polluting lights,
The stars outnumber their dark counterparts,
Leaving no expansion of space
Without a twinkle
Or a holy glowing light.