The “Cabin on the Creek”
for my brothers and me,
home is first, and last, the “Cabin,”
it’s where we children spent our summers growing up,
where we, and our parents, had time for each other,
where land and rock, stream and forest,
were our friends before technology and screens
filed a void we didn’t know we had,
or maybe created a void in us,
after we had them, that only they can fill,
as both of my brothers slipped into their final days,
Cabin and parents called to them to come home,
my own psyche centers itself here,
the last homely home
before nature and mountain
swallow and expand the wanderer.
by Henry H. Walker
April 3, ‘19
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