Sunday, March 13, 2016

Spring Poem

Gould’s Sugar House

I wait for Kate my former therapist
Now long-time friend
To join me for brunch
At Gould’s Sugar House
This peculiar cusp of no-winter

Early spring day when hardly any sap
Will flo for you see it takes freezing nights
And warm days to make the sap flow
There in the rustic barn above the
Sugar house for a contemplative moment
I see all the people before me move
To the music of the din of restaurant
Noises, sips of coffee,
Contentment in the house--
Pancakes, waffles, corn fritters
Their faces brimming with joy
Each in their own vision of reality
Not touching yet together seeking
The taste of that sap
With its sugar of indescribable

4:00 AM
March 13, 2016


  1. AH, you have me back in Chardon, Ohio in the 1950's this morning, stuck in our car in a blizzard on the way to the sugaring off. I'll send this early spring poem to my brother and sister to enjoy. Thanks!

  2. Thanks for your appreciation. By the way will add your name to the graphic of the fire monkey!