Changed

I remember as a girl coming to your entrance and finding

It hostile and inviting with the branches from the pucker brush 

Grabbing at the sides of the vehicle as we hunted

Or as we drove to the door of the cabin way back in the woods

Hidden away between the west branch of the Mattawamkeg

And Babcock brook where the water talks all day and night

Where my father would speak to the beaver

Or the moose that would charge or the birds

Whip-o-will, chickadee, gorbee and we would learn

Them all walking as silently as we could like the 

Animal we were tracking to take impressions

In plaster or to watch from afar or the trip by canoe

To Bible Point to see where dear Roosevelt

Would meditate and now to look and want to cry

A wasteland greets my eyes where the loggers

Have clear cut leaving behind no welcome home

Except for the coyote who wanders lost through the 

Changed land hoping for a glimpse of the animals

Who have lost a home, even me lost in a land that is

Unfamiliar longing for that child like look of forest

Knowing it is gone yet we spread his ashes

On the favorite place, the sacred ground of home