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Sweetgrass and Hemingway
The smell of the sweetgrass braid took me back
Trips north to see family now gone
Visions and impressions of ten years old
The way back of the station wagon filled with sister and treasure
We did not know that we did not know or perhaps ever know
I pushed aside the cedar, bent to disguise the secret trails
Sweetgrass and cedar like elements of taste, smell, touch
Chasing Hemingway down old roads and creeks
I saw Nick Adams in my mind and heart
He saw me with my magic bags of nature
The people put in a corner of the map with roadside stalls as windows to the world
Stories that only lived in memory
And now?
Maps with no roads, villages forgotten
We cannot go back in time
Time will chase us down and shove us to the ground
There we taste, smell, touch the earth
And there the sweetgrass and cedar grow still
(c) 2009 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (26 Sep 09)
