Thursday, August 15, 2024

Morning Winds at Kilbourne Lake













Morning Winds at Kilbourne Lake


Loons calling

Misty Morning fog rising 

Waves on the lake ripple toward the ancient rock at shore


Chimney smoke rising 

Maude’s voice quietly calling from past years and today

Boys and girls up early rambling on the rocks and mossy path fishing poles in hand- minnow dangling 



Hydro line steady reflecting on the lake 

wind blowing in the now evergreen-ing pines - 

towering higher now

The walk to the bog - variety and colorful mushroom variety on the way/ snakes as well, black and yellow fellow


Lilly pad flowering for a time /

“The beauty of a flower is that it fades” * - my heartbeat skips at this/ though I know it’s true

Through the Years 

Like time lapse photos- quickly pass in a beautiful blur

Photographs I hope never fade/ Life

The Fleeting quality, value,

Impermanence / appreciation 


Again, a toast is made to the One, and to the ones who served and gave that we could enjoy this day -

Gone before us but present in every eye, smile and Whippoorwill singing


Lifting high a toast in gratitude and honor and remembrance

“Cherish every moment, 

Fleeting life under the sun”


Meteor showers around a colorful fire, laughter, mountain pies, and s’mores

Wolf calls in the mid of night

Cool morning sunrise, fresh cup to fill, 

again and again 


Finite lives, cherishing each moment 

“glueing the past and the present together"

You've been to the place where time and memory join

You stand on The Rock and feel the morning winds at Kilbourne 



Morning Winds at Kilbourne Lake, Glimpse poetry by Joe Holuta


* Steve Leder, the beauty of what remains



About this poem-  Morning Winds at Kilbourne Lake is a poem about a camping trip to the Boone camp on Kilbourne Lake in wilderness of Canada. Decades ago, we traveled with Zella Maude and Wes Boone. We traveled with children and grandchildren on our own today and carry on some precious memories and experience that enlivens and quickens the soul. The air, the food, the fire, the hikes, loon calls, the drive-through Beaver Pond, all contribute to recalling again our ancestry, and also the struggle to make great things happen realizing the effort they made and trying to continue to the next and the next forever generations. - Joe Holuta































Additional poem on previous trip


Lakeside, Glimpse poetry


https://glimpsepoetry.blogspot.com/2022/09/lakeside.html


2023









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