Dave’s poem

The following is an assembly of my vivid and most cherished memories of being in the woods with Pa.  The following free verse style of writing was the only form that clicked for me when attempting to write something.

The story behind the poem is about the times we carried a canoe through the woods between remote ponds, or river sections which is referred to as portaging and  spending a night at the edge of the water then paddling the outlet of the pond as it grew downstream to a larger river..

A few terms:

A thwart is the piece of wood in a canoe  that spans between the gunwales of a canoe at its midpoint.  When upside down and being carried, the canoe thwart rests on ones shoulders across the back of the  neck and causes ones head to tilt forward inside the hull of the canoe..  This makes forward visibility poor and as kids PA would rely on watching the feet of one of us kids ahead. He didnt have much patience for having to stop or double back, so we learned quickly and early how to interpret patterns of lightly traveled trails the Maine woods. 

Woodsman’s Fly Dope we used before Cutters and Deep Woods bug repellent.  We used a lot of it to tame spring black flies.  It was a viscous brew of molasses and transmission fluid. Didn’t smell too bad but smell it did. It remains a memory trigger for me to this day.. 

A strainer is a term for a tree that has fallen into the river perpendicular to the water flow by a hinge of roots still anchored to the bank. These can be very dangerous to paddlers as PA once demonstrated for myself and Pete Nordblom  on the Saco river one early spring.. 

Writing this got me in the chest and brought  tears that otherwise were just out of reach. 

At the reception I would enjoy hearing from others who have had experiences in the woods with their family or with PA  and the plants and animals and smells that have become a part of you.  A few copies of the poem  will be at the doors of the church as you are leaving,  in case you have had difficulty catching all the words.  

I will try to remember to speak slowly and clearly and pause between lines. 

Thank you so much for sharing your day with our families and memories of Gordon. 

November 12, 2022, GHIII Service

David Hall 1958-

HE BROUGHT ME WALKING IN THE WOODS

He brought me walking in the woods. 

Lady slippers cast matted  leaves aside/ like heavy winter quilts 

A spring fed pool / towering broken hemlock trees/ beneath/ Pileated tailings piled

Portage Path to next watershed along growing shaded stream

Balsam smells hushing breezes sway/ above descending trail

PA’s axe sharpened this path/ his Pop adored before

Portage long the thwart still presses

How much further/ young eyes/ guess/ beyond next turn/ or more

Soothing sound the water weaves/ a ruffled round stone quilt

Inspecting Sandpiper/ bobs and teeters/ about the waters edge

At Inlet/ scented sedges /gentle to the hull/ I rest.

Filtered Light through Hemlock bows a game trail now revealed

PA’ s pond and waterway/ rises/  from glass where canoe and trout explore

We set the tablecloth of green moss moist and velvet/ cast the evening fly.

Crackle fire, swirls of smoke celebrated cornmeal trout 

Smell Woodsmans dope on drowsy eyes the blackfly swells again

Barred owl cooks an echo the rising moon will know.

And gently lapping water whisper soothing pondside song

We slept beneath the birches /Our bear protection Pa. 

Outlet East / departs the  water / passing  meander meadows distant

Parting steam sunrays/  leave  eelgrass waving/ on shallow’s stone and pebble floor

Grows a river bending/ where strainers pulse the waters force/ beware the outside line

Pry the gunwale/ swing the stern/ rehearse

On wet paddle/  bounce playful rippled light.

Box turtle observes our passing/ retreats to shadow logs

Herons hunt/ the leg is bent/ peering/ cautious/ stalking/ writhing little lunches

Loons sing a floating sadness I cannot live without.

Pa to travel again this place/ with his Pop and my brother Sam/ who passed by here before

Knowing now that love he lost/ to me now better understood

Rejoice love’s gyre/ goodbye to mend/ rebirth/ so hard

Love you Pa,

I will see you walking in the woods.