To see this familiar place with fresh eyes
was a gift. I felt as if I had never walked
these grounds before and now how beautiful
it all was at high noon on a winter day
with a cloud-veiled sun in the sky.
And how its quiet sang!
What called me was the long swath
of dried goldenrod, looking like a troop
of old men telling tales amongst themselves
as they kept watch over this sacred land.
I remember seeing them here in their youth,
all green seed and golden flowers.
How tall they still stand now, how glorious
the way the light touches their crowns.