Carved
Like paradise
From alabaster glaciers
Birth trees like
Like stubborn soldiers
Raise the bright fall canopy
To heroic skies
Hunting for moose tracks
Among the pine needle carpets
Climb and sweat
In the fall breeze
Sloug up rocky slopes
Jagged hills with slip-leaves
Just for us tourists
Climbing …. Climbing…
Serene clearing
To spy Crescent Lake
And miles of Maine trees and skies
Not another soul around to share
The treasured stones, the good musty earth
The dreamy majesty of land
Of the America that still is, at least here.
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