We traveled out a dirt rut road
Amid throws of golden hour
September woods rapt a glow
Showing off this Sunday evenings blend
Where nature shares her fertile luscious goods
Along a winding half a mile drive
Every turn another snapshot
Squeezed into our willing minds
Beauty… carpe diem finds
A lucky guess, we confess, wearing sunset smiles
Then before us, rests a rustic home
So familiar – could it be?
The very one the singer spoke of
While his lifetime set the scene
Not a dream at all… but real
Our footsteps crunch brittle leaves
Autumn discards dot the path
Leading to a covered porch
Part of a crafter’s aftermath
Designed from hand hewn log
More spacious through aging windowpanes
Then the mind may first allow
Latched tight to bar intrusion
We resign, we sit and share a bit of time
Bent wood chairs offer rest
Near the door a treasure chest
Little notes begging to be read
Admiring everything a family…
Thought to do all through their life
For the sake of nature’s living things
Meadow after meadow
The forest spans thick between
Grasslands, trees, then jagged, granite peaks - above
There in blushing daylight's end
As if ‘tis understood… unsaid
Upon this vibrant, thriving, rooted, peaceful ground