Walk these acres of piled stones,
ready for fish to dry
as your wearied fingers
haul rocks to the sand.
Your grandmother worked the beach
in her black dress and sunbonnet.
You’ll be likewise tempted
to say the night is black,
but the waning gibbous moon
with mercury in the morning sky
is only deep
green velvet.
Some may be tempted to travel
then move on,
but you?
You will stay in the living world
to frame the red carnations &
partridgeberry sprigs.
As your hands wrinkle,
think of your grandmother’s trout
and love the beauty around your
shared home.
I watched the forest, boreal and still,
become hammered with road signs.
My final advice to the traveler?
Sentimentalize.
Emily Bulicz-Arnelien
Image by RL, accessed from Pexels.