Three Poems for Cunningham Pond and Monadnock Conservancy
by Ann B. Day
Apr, 2021
Beech Leaves
Why do the pale, bronze leaves
of beech betray the legacy of fall
by holding fast to stubborn twigs
beyond the time of autumn’s call?
Through winter winds and storms
they cling reluctant to let go
until the gentle nudge of spring
drops them awash in melting snow.
I see them in the winter woods,
a yellow patch in barren trees, their
parchment curls are clustered near
and quiver in the cold north breeze.
Perhaps, like them, I cling too much
to seasons past and seasons seen,
for spring will come with burst of buds
to fill a waiting world with green.
Renewal
Last week in the gray light of a late April dawn
I walked a narrow path through the damp woods.
Bare, black branches of hardwood shrubs and trees
paled as fog drifted between ash, birch and maple.
In the mist, I saw the silhouette of a crow on top
of a butternut tree. It lifted off and, silently
with feather fanned, it slid away into the fog.
fading black to gray to gone.
Again, I walk the path on an early May morning.
The rising sun beams through trees and warms
the soil. Sugar maples glow with tiny green foliage
spilling from their pods. Blood root, spring beauties,
trout lilies are blooming. White birches are bursting
with yellow and young crows cackle in their nests.
Over Cunningham Pond
Slow floating high above Cunningham Pond, its dark
primaries spread to catch the westerly wind, it turns,
wavers, tips, turns again in ever widening circles up
and up against cloud-dotted blue.
Head tips, right, left, black eyes search where brown
grass meets shrubs and the last bit of lingering snow
while tall white pines frame the field like elder states-
men observing activity in the meadow.
Field mice venture out to search for seed. The hawk,
now a dot in the sky, circles as it watches the mice below
watching for something larger. The afternoon sun catches
the red in the hawk’s tail.
On the ground a young groundhog nibbles on fresh grass.
The redtail sees it, turns downward, eyes fixed on its prey
with its talons stretched forward, It screeches as it streaks
downward toward the field.
In seconds it lands in grassy brush at edge of the field.
After a moment of silence, the red=tail rises up, wings
pumping, limp groundhog in its claws, it flies east over
the pond to the pine forest on Pack Monadnock.
Eastern white pine at Cunningham Pond, Ann B. Day (Apr, 2021)
Ann Bemis Day was born in Boston, attended Shipley School in PA, and Colby Sawyer in New London, NH. She and her husband, Frank Day, hosted over 300 annually at their farm in the Mad River Valley, VT. They took people into the woods to teach habitat and woods wisdom. This ended when Frank died in 1970. With the help of her children, however, Ann continued hosting guests while caring for the animals. Ann has published several Nature and poetry books and continues writing her weekly column for a Vermont paper. She now lives in the Mondanock area where she writes and walks in the woods.
As a land trust for southwestern New Hampshire, the mission of Monadnock Conservancy (monadnockconservancy.org) is to work with communities and landowners to conserve the natural resources, wild and working lands, rural character, and scenic beauty of the Monadnock region. We care for our conservation lands, and we engage people in ways that strengthen their communities and their connections to the land.