my heart cries out for thee, here in the lowlands
my heart cries out for thee, hills of the north,
blue lake and rocky shore, I will return once more,
boom diddy aye dye, boom diddy aye dye, boom diddy aye dye, boom… trad.
On the first warm day of the year we shed winter cocoons,
find musty-stiff bathing suits, pack bread, cheese, apples,
towels and cheery picnic gear, brave the steep hike to the peak,
…heed the call of the navy-blue tarn and the ice-white falls of Hynam.
A mile or so as the crow flies, or the buzzards
when they aren’t hovering high in the blue, blue skies of our youth,
perhaps two miles by foot, a shingle path winds,
a scramble at the end, always, over rocky outcrops,
through yellow gorse, Marsh Fritillaries on the wing,
honeybees buzzing, all nectar whores,
…hum to the call of the navy-blue tarn and the ice-white falls of Hynam.
Opening to a viridian plane spotted yellow and white
with celandines, daisies, dandelions,
neat-nibbled by wild-straggled, dread-locked sheep.
Away they skitter, tails-a-quiver as we violate their silence
crying ’last one in’s a loser!’
…echo the call of the navy-blue tarn and the ice-white falls of Hynam.
Once, just as we glimpse the summit, a lone heron
pauses us, renders us mute with his elegance.
We raise hands in sun-shade salute,
watch in awe his missile precision
arrow head mission for a silvered mirror carp.
We strip and leap, in one smooth motion
raise a commotion loud enough for the breeze to carry
the two miles home, dive-bomb the depths, plummet like lead,
but no one, ever, reaches the bottom,
explode on the surface, screams of brain-freeze,
a tangle of arms and legs caught in the frenzied fizz,
…in thrall to the call of the navy-blue tarn and the ice-white falls of Hynam.
Later, Orion, Perseus, all seven of their sisters,
a million other nameless strangers and a skin-thin
lemon peel paring of a moon light us from indigo skies
while we warm bodies and minds in the glow of vermillion embers,
dance to slow-strummed guitars, sing cider-sweet campfire rounds,
and in midnight hush breathe to the diuturnal rush,
…sleep to the call of the navy-blue tarn and the ice-white falls of Hynam.
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