state natural area poems #25: sapa spruce bog a & b

a.

downed logs saturated

cobbles for white-tail hooves

spring thru grass and water

b.

sumac flair

prevents entry—

bog country

sapa spruce bog is a black spruce-tamarack bog (southernmost instance in wi) located in a kettle hole left by the receding glacier at last ice age’s end. it’s very acidic and has what is called “houghton muck” for soil–wow. we stopped by the northern edge (access is restricted to research) to see and smell the hardwood swamp habitat and met a buck wandering along the road. he quickly disappeared into the bog with lots more knowledge of such things than us.

thanks to the university of wisconsin-milwaukee field station for tending this pristine bog.

state natural area poems #24: cedarburg bog a, b, & c

a.

glacial lake

water dream

mud fossil

b.

tumbled rock above

glistening eyes below

twilit bog life

c.

geese call at sunset. white cedar,

tamarack—tall family. feathery

splays in moss, grass, sedge, peeping

over duckweed. basswood sleeps unstirring.

cedarburg bog was once a glacial lake. the bog contains six lakes, shrub-carr, and a string bog (typical of much farther north in n. america). birches and basswood live here, along with white cedar and tamarack swamp forest. on my way thru, i met a very talkative black-capped chickadee.

thanks to the university of wisconsin-milwaukee field station, wi dnr and friends of cedarburg bog for tending this land.

state natural area poems #23: cudahy woods in fall

gill, spore, and stipe

they sound and found the forest

messengers of earth from below

puffball colony
dense polypores
gilled
canopy above

cudahy woods is where this whole “living found poem” project started back in march—a 40-acre plot of old-growth forest with an unnamed stream running thru. right next to mitchell airport. we’ve kept an eye on this forest periodically since march, and it’s been a gift to watch its communities shift, grow, and die back to make way for others.

state natural area poems #22, a & b: karcher springs

a.

dried remnant of the year

seed capsules blow in the driving wind

yet your stream flows on clear

b.

graceful tumult at the boggy

edge. fringed gentian

crowns the cooling fen

karcher springs is a calcareous fen along a marl-bottomed stream sourced in springs flowing out of a wooded esker. what more can i say? thanks to the wisconsin dnr for tending this land.

state natural poems #20: meridian park a, b, & c

a.

ferns waving flank

our footsteps, hornworts, bedrock

chainsaw echo on dolomite

b.

ankles ache below beech and hemlock

the sedge softness and alkaline marsh

tramping earth while we draw breath

c.

if beech trunks aflame

won’t tell us of heaven

what on earth will?

meridian state park is a forest, alkaline marsh, and sedge meadow on an isthmus between kangaroo lake and lake michigan in door county, wisconsin. the prominent outcropping of the niagra escarpment is something else, but so is the wood and the marsh. tremendous. thanks to door county for tending this land, and the workers who were there clearing trails as we walked them.

state natural area poems #19: bailey’s harbor boreal forest and wetlands

a.

berms and hills

tumbling moss

forest going to sleep

b.

sprays of birch

over upright apes

gold in the air

c.

you push thru pines your height

and thimble berry dense

young in the boreal forest

d.

birch leaves radiant, frogs

and mushroom gills spread

moss mats thick on the ground

bailey’s harbor boreal forest and wetlands is exactly what it sounds like! a fantastic and barebones trail thru the woods with extensive bryophytes and currently-blazing fall colors. a newer section goes along the lakeshore. thanks to the wisconsin dnr for caring for this site!

state natural area poems, supplementum anthropocenum #2: fox river at vernon, wi a & b

a.

on jumbled cement slabs in fox river

how little we know about our river friends—

i thought the current would be headed west

b.

fox river algal sways

rushes grow tall

blue heron sees us all

as i sat on one of the huge chunks of cement dumped near the bank of the fox river, i found myself trying to keep the electricity poles and other slabs of debris out of the shots of the opposite bank. that didn’t feel quite right, so i figured i had another “anthropocenum” moment on my hands. these shots are frank about what the fox looks like at this moment in its journey from halbach swamp down to the illinois.