a poem in my pocket

paddles lean 

on fence rails

(perhaps it’s

vice versa?)

logs built cabin

“up north” on

Isle of Pines.

lattice work

skirts porch,

window panes

frame scenery,

rough wood shakes

cover roof above

old plank floors.

sheltering trees

of old forest,

clusters of soft

pine needles,

dark ripples on

peeling bark,

scattered cones.

survival skills

for every season:

gardening, canning,

hauling supplies,

fishing, feeding birds,

chopping firewood,

cutting ice blocks.

preserves on shelf,

deer stew in pot

clothing on hooks,

stacks of wood,

crackle of ham radio,

hiss of teapot steam,

snowshoes by door.

Ms. Dorothy,

sole proprietor,

brews ‘n bottles

her homemade

root beer for

thirsty canoeists

who put ashore.