THE PELICAN PATROL*
cruises the gut,
gliding,
steady as she goes,
heads erect,
eyes low,
looking for
shore life breaking the law.
Silent monitors,
eye-in-the-sky radar,
reporting, for all I know,
with CBs, cell phones or
hush-hush devices not yet available
in the stores.
The pelican patrol
cruises for guts,
fannies and more --
old yankee candles
burning both ends
flirting with heat,
sunburns --
excesses provoking
Mother Nature’s immutable
sunshine laws.
Merciless messengers,
no guardian angels these,
pelicans plead no one’s cases --
burn, baby, burn;
just do their surveillance
then return to their roosts
and place in the sun.
DRK
3/24/11
*
In Lansing, MI, when young people drive their cars up and down the main
drag, looking for whatever young people look for, they call it
"Cruising the gut."
Wednesday, July 12, 2023
HIKING YELLOWSTONE
Our guided group hiked a
mountain wood
Some to learn
Some for solitude
We followed our guide
Up the continental divide
Where east-flowing rivers went north
And west-flowing rivers went south
And down
Through competitive strata of spruce
and lodgepole pines,
Darwinian winners in the ecology of
fire
We were told the hikes would
be flat
We were not told, compared
to climbing ladders
She shared her expertise
And ecological lore
About calderas, buffalo
wallows
And aeries --
Was that an osprey
Or just another raven?
Heat stressed fish
And creel kill,
The sixth kingdom, archaea,
Pictographs and fire
strikes,
Obsidian, travertine, rhyolite
And sinter.
Signs insisted:
DO NOT ENTER
Fumaroles, geysers, pools
and mud pots
Steamed,
Warming and warning
Those who stopped
STAY ON THE WALKWAY
From time to time a stray
would forge ahead
Or lag behind
To admire a bed
Of Fringed Gentian
Then bend low
To photograph western
mistletoe --
Less intent on learning about
mountains
As from them
Our newly alerted
imaginations
were stirred by nature’s
wordless lessons
Whispering creeks pointed uphill
To unseen waterfalls
Swaying pines, their coniferous boughs
And sunlight in a whirl
Spoke of this brave old world,
Whose ages of sharing
Now prompt unsettled stirrings about
caring
Mother Nature, author,
teacher
Surrounded us with her
wisdom
Here long before we came
And maybe long past when our
children come
Dennis R. Keefe
October 6, 2004
May 30, 2016
SPACE ETUDE
A summer breeze stirred the boughs
of a Douglas fir
and scented the shade settling from above
while from our feet,
cascading down,
a hillside of grape vines
advertised
years of cultivated love.
Crosswinds of charcoal-seared aromas
teased noses
with picnic promises,
while the circling host and hostess
decanted vineyard hospitality.
The day’s camaraderie, once stirred,
seemed to parade
lingering first at the baby’s crib
then, circling, radiated outward
to the perimeter.
At moonrise
solar lamps directed
the darkening, angled
walk back
down
between tangled
vines and lives.
Thanks to the Gladharts
Dennis R. Keefe
September 21, 2004
THE LAST BIRD WORDS
The roll was taken from the porch,
in whispers,
of those who came to our backyard vespers.
Neighborhood redbirds
and red breasts arrived
with the slipping evening light
to claim their first-come, first-served
roosting rights.
An evening duel ensued
o’er who would have
the last bird words.
The redbirds, last at the feeder,
chirped it shut for the night,
but couldn’t out-wait
the robins’
slow, drawn out antiphons,
warbling down from the trees,
trailing silence through the leaves.
These psalm-like prayers
prompted "Amens"
from those below
not too busy to care
who sang when
or if the last solar lantern
came on before ten.
Dennis R. Keefe, 9/30/12
THE WOODS
Were there with trees
Paths, deer
Just there
Until a breeze
Took our hands
And led us away
From the noise
Sirens, bikes, buses, trains
Highway roar, trucks, gunshots and cars
Took their leave
This, we realized
Is what the family came to vacation from
And what we all thanked Carole for
Here is more
Barothy’s manicured Michigan retreat
Lodges
Ponds, river
And islands
A favorite harbored geese
Peacocks, ducks and a swan
Waddling, hissing
Do not tread on
Our gaggle space
The woods were there
With opportunities
Kids commandeered the hot tub
And pools
One with water
The other, a table
Billiard balls and cues
In the evenings
A board game crowd
Loud
During the day
Ponds with fish
Nibblers, smallish
Caught our kids
Magnificent uncles
Eased nephews and nieces
Into the icky fishy tasks
To catch and release
Tennis?
Basketball anyone?
Playing catch?
Coaches and players
All available
Watch Zander demonstrate
His behind-the-back dribble
The woods were there with the Pere
Marquette
A Keefe Kamp Kayak Crew
Took a river tour
Launching one at a time
Heading to the bank
Directly across to sort through
What paddles do
And how to head down stream
Meanwhile
Captain Aaron
Drifted Meme and Papa
Down the river to see
An eagle, its aerie
And an early salmon run
Frequent pauses
A trout try or two
But mostly
Two with son
Were you an early riser?
Did you turn off the overhead fan?
Or the fireplace on?
Help start the coffee?
Wait quietly
As the morning excitement wandered down
One by one?
A few slept in
(They know who they are)
Their rule:
What you do, or don’t do
On vacation
Need not be an issue before noon
The woods were there with bees
Blake, stung among the flowers
At the swimming pool
Tried his seven-year-old best
To keep his cool
Evening cocktail hours, for sure
On the back porch overlooking the river
Look down to see
Who is fishing today
Or out front under a nest of mourning doves
Fledglings, perched
No hurry to move
Late week
An urban break
Lured by the attractions of Ludington
A huge beach, for the young
While the adults took
A lighthouse breaker walk
A half-mile out
Keeping cameras dry
The same walk, half-mile back
The woods were there to share
A last night birthday cake
The oldest member
Maintaining his pace
Banked another
Then we celebrated
From the youngest on
We were made to stand up front, alone
And hear the noisy group decide
How well we played
With others
Then make a selection from
The pool table awards array
On check-out morning
We worked to untangle the clan
And get everyone into
Their proper vans
Cars or SUVs
With all their gear
As well as several bags of returnable cans
Last minute photo ops
Then
“Goodbye, woods”
Will you stay?
And be here to greet us again someday?
DRK
11/27/17
4/11/18
UP NORTH TRILOGY
AMISH COUNTRY
The country road heading west
transported us through horse and buggy days,
the chance to see
the work it takes to make it work,
the days to raise the oats and harvest the hay,
feed for the animals that move their lives.
Farmers with four-horse teams
pulled hybrid mowing machines
their cutters running on gasoline.
Women at the grocery store
purveyed home canned goods
and bulk foods,
bagged in the room next door.
“Ask Us About Our Bear Bait,” they advertise.
They offered staples,
Ivory, Lava and Fels Naptha,
plain products for plain people.
Starbucks Coffee over two aisles.
Young children, in a woman’s care,
five in a one horse two-wheeled buggy ride.
Bicycling,
a sixth, trailed, pushing hard,
bobbing side to side
his wide brimmed hat securely tied.
At the furniture and dry-goods store
a young girl tending the till
penned a letter longhand.
No help from Twitter or Email.
Just Uncle Sam’s snail.
A mile away
no one tended the bakery.
Honor system. Pay
and obey.
“Shirts Required, No Swimwear.”
Hannah, lukewarm shopper,
was content to confront
the rabbit hutch out front.
How fortunate we were to need that road,
to receive our neighbors’ waves and smiling stares
as we negotiated our vehicle around theirs,
sharing a road,
clip clopped and horse plopped.
On our last Wednesday an evening service
drew dozens to the road
on foot, bicycles, carriages.
Women, west bound in black dresses and white hats
chatted as they bounced along.
A young man, east bound, running to catch up,
slicked down his hair.
All gathering
from the many events
in their labor intensive lives.
MEADOW VIEW FARM
Down the hill
and across the meadow, pink
blooming milkweed and wild asters surround
a pastel blue-green pond
neatly trimmed rim-round,
with a mowed space
and sitting benches neatly placed.
A miniature house, the focal point,
held fishing gear,
chairs and jars of food
to feed the bass, catfish and sunfish
waiting to surface.
Up the hill more paths, mowed,
tempted hikers and bikers to explore.
The tops of the trees caught the evening’s sunset rays
creating the slow rise of a northern Michigan Alpen-glow.
In the yard, along the roads,
Rabbits, groundhogs and deer,
one with a fawn.
A porcupine.
Something that looked like a fox.
The neighbor’s dog?
No black bear
although Curran, The Black Bear Capital,
is a short drive east from here.
A wild turkey family, blended, all sizes, strolled
left to right, through the rail fence,
then disappeared over the hill.
They would reprise their show at the pond.
Nearby Fairview, you may recall,
the Wild Turkey Capital.
Around the farmhouse
Bird feeders, busy
despite our noisy comings and goings
fishing, biking, kayaking, and campfire building.
Environmental footprints, indeed.
Alyssa’s gift, unique it seemed:
entrances without disturbance.
A purple finch or pine grosbeak?
The hairy woodpeckers, no mystery,
persistent, noisy.
Red breasted nuthatches
showed us where they summer.
Hummers, feisty, dive bombed each other
for some nectar.
Two pileated woodpeckers
flashed their red cockades.
RIVER DRIFTING
The river, Au Sable
The trip, memorable
Three generations adrift in
Pure Michigan.
Aaron's drift boat with Meme and Papa
Alyssa and Hannah in kayaks rounding river bends
Over stones, dark pools, eddies, logs and sand.
Majestic white pines
Frame blue skies, a stray cloud
And provide a focus
On two lodgers, eagles.
One taking its leave to soar --
My thought, not to ignore
But to eye us observers.
The other, perched, shifted
As we drifted under
Eagle's wings up close
Powerful
Wonder
Aaron, intent on conveying
The joys and techniques
Of fishing with flies,
Gave us a chance to try.
navigating back roads
de-trailering the boat
and into the water,
equipping,
rowing, teaching, demonstrating
First netting, Meme
First landing, Papa
In awe of the beauty and coloring
Of the brooks and browns briefly held
The joys came easily
The techniques, less so.
Years of casting and cranking --
In Papa's way
Alyssa, a teen, less burdened,
Had the tight loops and roll casts
Down pat.
Excitement level enhanced
By preparations for the annual
100 mile Au Sable River canoe festival,
A dusk to dawn marathon
From Grayling with start -- a la Lemans,
Downstream to Oscoda on Lake Huron.
River crossings getting port-a-johns
Fans renting cottages to root on
Their teams
Racing a river in the dark?
To me, insane-a-thon!
And for the record,
A taste of “Not So Pure Michigan”
Riverside, a bra tree requested donations.
And, oh children,
Sorry if you saw
Too much of that woman?
DRK
8/17/11
7/15/16
AMISH COUNTRY
The country road heading west
transported us through horse and buggy days,
the chance to see
the work it takes to make it work,
the days to raise the oats and harvest the hay,
feed for the animals that move their lives.
Farmers with four-horse teams
pulled hybrid mowing machines
their cutters running on gasoline.
Women at the grocery store
purveyed home canned goods
and bulk foods,
bagged in the room next door.
“Ask Us About Our Bear Bait,” they advertise.
They offered staples,
Ivory, Lava and Fels Naptha,
plain products for plain people.
Starbucks Coffee over two aisles.
Young children, in a woman’s care,
five in a one horse two-wheeled buggy ride.
Bicycling,
a sixth, trailed, pushing hard,
bobbing side to side
his wide brimmed hat securely tied.
At the furniture and dry-goods store
a young girl tending the till
penned a letter longhand.
No help from Twitter or Email.
Just Uncle Sam’s snail.
A mile away
no one tended the bakery.
Honor system. Pay
and obey.
“Shirts Required, No Swimwear.”
Hannah, lukewarm shopper,
was content to confront
the rabbit hutch out front.
How fortunate we were to need that road,
to receive our neighbors’ waves and smiling stares
as we negotiated our vehicle around theirs,
sharing a road,
clip clopped and horse plopped.
On our last Wednesday an evening service
drew dozens to the road
on foot, bicycles, carriages.
Women, west bound in black dresses and white hats
chatted as they bounced along.
A young man, east bound, running to catch up,
slicked down his hair.
All gathering
from the many events
in their labor intensive lives.
MEADOW VIEW FARM
Down the hill
and across the meadow, pink
blooming milkweed and wild asters surround
a pastel blue-green pond
neatly trimmed rim-round,
with a mowed space
and sitting benches neatly placed.
A miniature house, the focal point,
held fishing gear,
chairs and jars of food
to feed the bass, catfish and sunfish
waiting to surface.
Up the hill more paths, mowed,
tempted hikers and bikers to explore.
The tops of the trees caught the evening’s sunset rays
creating the slow rise of a northern Michigan Alpen-glow.
In the yard, along the roads,
Rabbits, groundhogs and deer,
one with a fawn.
A porcupine.
Something that looked like a fox.
The neighbor’s dog?
No black bear
although Curran, The Black Bear Capital,
is a short drive east from here.
A wild turkey family, blended, all sizes, strolled
left to right, through the rail fence,
then disappeared over the hill.
They would reprise their show at the pond.
Nearby Fairview, you may recall,
the Wild Turkey Capital.
Around the farmhouse
Bird feeders, busy
despite our noisy comings and goings
fishing, biking, kayaking, and campfire building.
Environmental footprints, indeed.
Alyssa’s gift, unique it seemed:
entrances without disturbance.
A purple finch or pine grosbeak?
The hairy woodpeckers, no mystery,
persistent, noisy.
Red breasted nuthatches
showed us where they summer.
Hummers, feisty, dive bombed each other
for some nectar.
Two pileated woodpeckers
flashed their red cockades.
RIVER DRIFTING
The river, Au Sable
The trip, memorable
Three generations adrift in
Pure Michigan.
Aaron's drift boat with Meme and Papa
Alyssa and Hannah in kayaks rounding river bends
Over stones, dark pools, eddies, logs and sand.
Majestic white pines
Frame blue skies, a stray cloud
And provide a focus
On two lodgers, eagles.
One taking its leave to soar --
My thought, not to ignore
But to eye us observers.
The other, perched, shifted
As we drifted under
Eagle's wings up close
Powerful
Wonder
Aaron, intent on conveying
The joys and techniques
Of fishing with flies,
Gave us a chance to try.
navigating back roads
de-trailering the boat
and into the water,
equipping,
rowing, teaching, demonstrating
First netting, Meme
First landing, Papa
In awe of the beauty and coloring
Of the brooks and browns briefly held
The joys came easily
The techniques, less so.
Years of casting and cranking --
In Papa's way
Alyssa, a teen, less burdened,
Had the tight loops and roll casts
Down pat.
Excitement level enhanced
By preparations for the annual
100 mile Au Sable River canoe festival,
A dusk to dawn marathon
From Grayling with start -- a la Lemans,
Downstream to Oscoda on Lake Huron.
River crossings getting port-a-johns
Fans renting cottages to root on
Their teams
Racing a river in the dark?
To me, insane-a-thon!
And for the record,
A taste of “Not So Pure Michigan”
Riverside, a bra tree requested donations.
And, oh children,
Sorry if you saw
Too much of that woman?
DRK
8/17/11
7/15/16
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)