Tarmac Where My Wintergreen Berries Lived





I went back to the woods where I played 

with grampa in the dunes near the lake

My mother goddess Lake Michigan

or the big lake gitchegumme to locals 

this land was made for you and me


Houses sit and tarmac covers 

where my wintergreen berries lived 

drywall shacks that grew not from seed but 

chewed up, used up, spat out natural resources

post-industrial waste of too much muchness


too many structures holding too few people 

flimsy construction from destruction of 

the Great Spirit Gluskabe's stately dunes

irreplicable, irreplaceable, unshakable


until the diesel breathing monster machines came

gorging themselves on magnetite, hematite and quartz

of prehistory older-than-ice-age sands 

more non-renewable comrades fallen 

Avē Imperātor, moritūrī tē salūtant


Extinct is forever and gone is for good

it made sense of a sort when there were jobs, 

railroad, factories, newspapers, telephones 

neighbors and communities. America WAS Great

now it's just glutinous and grasping 


We build boxes to house bric-a-brac and junk

we buy too much of and don't need and

can't pay for and go bankrupt to have

and don't use and throw in landfills

already the size of small cities


useless crap to feed corporate and consumer greed

for things they will only destroy in a very short time

Woodsy used to say "give a hoot, don't pollute"

And we held hands and sang

if those poor owl could but see us now


ironic yard signs reading "no over development" 

in over developed sub divisions with landscaped

marram grass where it once grew wild

ripped out to replant in its native habitat

Why?


signs preaching "keep off the dunes"

in the yards built on trashed dunes 

and "dune preserve" preserved where?!

an asphalted over melted glacier Lake?

a concreted old growth back dune forest 

of pine, fir, Eastern hemlock, spruce, trillium


lady slippers, wintergreen, protective mosses 

oak, juniper, trilobite, petrified wood, fossils 

ground to wood chips to decorate lawns

that smothered animal habitats that grew

where leaves and needles once blanketed 


nothing remains except spent, sparse 

scraps of tree cremains left where they are 

till their spot is needed to build 

some family an even bigger house

And the Lorax laments on...

 

that they aren't going to use 

the divorce will be final before 

she moves in,  alone with her cat

kitchen larger than diners of childhood

sharing a cup they call loneliness


homes as large as tenement halls 

contrast the shotgun singles of my youth 

with a family of seven crammed 

to the gills under one roof, comfortably

homes that house families of families


two bedroom homes, not houses 

where people ate dinner at 5:30

around a Formica table in the kitchen

somehow they all miraculously fit 

chewing their knees with their rolls


now the huge kitchens are decorated

with cookbooks and spices no one uses 

and mass produced signs telling us to "Gather" 

in empty rooms with no one to comply

Seeger, Baez, Dylan, Peter, Paul and Mary warned us


There's an enormous dining room with

table big enough to seat the Love Boat crew

it's covered with packed boxes 

Each eats DoorDash in his room with 64" TV

Strangely Estranged, strangers called family


all that's in the commercial grade fridge 

which could hold food for a battalion

is vodka, half a lime and a takeaway

her Prozac prescription and a tin for the cat

paradise was razed for that


working to pay off overpriced boxes

they were never satisfied with anyway 

and soon they will move out and the

house will become another industrial sediment layer

crumbling my beloved dunes out from under


and they will gut someone else's childhood

to build their empty little boxes on 

the hillside made of ticky-tacky

to house their knicky-knacky crap-y

and they all look just the same. 


I want my berries back. 


Pins Welcome!

Follow Me on Pinterest

Blog Archive