Tabernacled under the spreading sky,
we would play on the rock formations
in a now-logged Jackson County woods.
To us kids, this shack was both primitive
and paradise–we’d have to ford a river
Deeper into the woods: ghosts of homesteads
a snapshot of the past hundred years in situ.
I’ve tried all my life to find a way back
The Chimney Stone. The Fort. Mermaid Lagoon.
The Car. These, and other gifts of glacial magnitude,
our little country scattered along the forest ground.