Adirondack Refuge
Past the wind farm
Around the farm houses
Up and down the rolling hills
We wander toward the camp
Smell of northern pine woods
Winding up through a canopy
Of sugar maples and poplars,
White pine and birch groves,
We reach a hidden oasis,
Surrounded by red and sugar maples,
Where four women can relax,
Build a fire and commune
With the Adirondacks.
6/18/25
KW
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I love how this poem treks to it’s resting spot! Great write!