By Tim Stouffer
Pine cone crunch…
is that a new Blizzard flavor?
At the local D.Q. after a canoe trip,
or the lego-like-walk to the latrine in the dark;
hazarding the path without your sandals
cause you forgot your glasses
in the food pack that’s hung high in the branches?
Is it some extra protein in the chicken chow mien
rehydrating over the burning pyramid of dry birch?
Is it the debitage pile from the resident red squirrel
that lies here, but also there.
And over there.
Is it the scintillating
smell that’s deep in the woods if you leave the path
even for a moment to follow the trail of a chattering chickadee
or scout the shade for Lady Slipper footprints?
Is it worth every moment it took to get here?
The bight along the shore that you read incorrectly on the map
and the bite of the yoke on your shoulders
and the bite(s)
all around the soft part of your neck and ears.
That much and much more.
©Timothy James Stouffer Ely, MN All Rights Reserved 06182020 #elystreetpoet