Exercise Path Off the Lackawanna River Heritage Trail
Looking back, walking it
in spring, off to one side,
skunk cabbage sprung
in the draining vernal
pools’ muck — a great deal
of green-spiraling, maroon-
striped and mottled leaves.
These fascinated
Thoreau, according to
a biography. There’s no quote
to explain the source
behind his attraction,
what he envisioned
or sensed. Skunk leaves twisting
up and out of ooze
and dark, felt close,
in his time, to concepts
of creation, is my guess,
like black holes for us
these days. But does
our distanced bond
with nature, along with
a shift in focus
so far from where we are,
mean we already seek answers
elsewhere? Burdocks would be
my heaven. They draw me
in because I’ve known them
from as far back as I can
remember. They have
always gravitated
to the abandoned
spots, to rot, or upon
the fill to cover,
and thrive, like in
that nearby, vacant mill
and along that exercise
path made by clearing old
Lackawanna RR
tracks, then ties. Lack
a wanna? Burdock?
Some thought Thoreau
lacked desire
but what if it that’s will
to reach everything
under the sun and beyond,
including us?
Burdocks have a back.
But their broad-leafed
shoulders joined hide
what’s beneath: waste
and trash tossed to the side.
Get away from it
all? Burdocks on the path
here at home slowly recede
to show crumbled Fireball nips
and Dunkin’ cups
haloed by the broke-
off but intact rim
of a dumped toilet
bowl. Heavens.
But almost past fall,
sprouting out of the mess,
their fuchsia flower brushes
have already painted
late pollen stops for bees
still doing what they’ve done
for one-hundred twenty
million years: gather,
defend. Only when
they feel threatened.