i've visited this hobbit house
for many years.
i can't believe it's still (barely) standing.
but it is.
and the little river
(that's its name)
is still meandering through
the woods john green first showed me
when my son was four, and daughter one,
and even the beaver stump
hasn't fallen
to weather or hooligans or critters.
and brave me
i went in on 6 or so inches
on a cold morning
and happiness
and my very old skis.
no worries about equipment,
and my knees,
and my niece's old rossies
do me proud.
that was saturday and then
here, sunday
the snow is mostly gone.
and the water is singing
and i have experienced
a warm day today, monday.
old green and palest ochre.
and my windows were wide open.
it's november,
and things keep changing
bones of the adirondack foothills show
over at the new place
riblike ridges herringbone into the meadow.
it's my favorite time.
miracles:
i have seen a bald eagle soaring the oswegatchie,
a ruffed grouse on a telephone line,
and dandelions in blossom,
and husks for wild cucumber and milkweed pods
were part of the last print pods.