Myths of Place

The cascade below Glen Falls. Photo by Ray Zimmerman.

I was recently challenged to create a myth about a place important to me, and I realized that I had done so in my poetry. I apologize to those of you who have already read my Glen Falls poems, but this is a class assignment, so here they are again. I am posting the Monday edition on Sunday Evening.

Glen Falls Trail

I climb the limestone stairs 
through an arch in rock, 
into the earth’s womb, 
pass through to a surprise:
George loves Lisa painted on a wall. 

I wonder, did he ever tell her? 
Did she ever know or think of him? 
Raise a brood of screaming children? 
Did they kiss near wild ginger above the stony apse?

Did lady’s slipper orchids 
adorn their meeting place 
where deer drink from rocky cisterns? 

Did their love wither 
like maidenhair fern, 
delicate as English Lace?

The symbols have outlived the moment. 
There is only today, 
only the murmur of water underground, 
my finding one trickle into a pool.

I never knew this George or Lisa. 
The rock bears their names in silence, 
names the stream forgot long ago.

In 2007, “Glen Falls Trail” won an award from the Tennessee Writers Alliance. By invitation, I read it at their awards ceremony on Legislative Plaza in Nashville. The journey became a story as well, “How I Became a Poet,” published in the online literary magazine Waxing and Waning, a product of April Gloaming Publishing. The poem was later published in The Southern Poetry Anthology from Texas Review Press.

Like a poem that fills the heart to overflowing
rain covered the mountain just after the New Year.
Murmuring rivulets covered once dry leaves,
intersected paths and muddied trails,
muddied shoes and trouser legs.
I plunged through fecund mud and leaves,
became a mud man devoted to sylvan gods.

Glen Falls became a roaring torrent,
deceived my ears.
Thinking it close, I forged ahead.
The cascade below the falls
became a booming choir.
Bases and contraltos reverberated
from hickory and oak.

I bowed before the splendor,
prepared to endure cold days ahead,
anticipated Equinox rebirth.

The poem “Rain” appeared in Number One, a publication of Volunteer State Community College in Gallatin, Tennessee. Number One ceased publication during the COVID-19 years. I later included the poem in my booklet of poems and photographs, Healing and Conflict.

Upcoming Appearances:

February 3 I will give a talk about Robert Sparks Walker at Audubon Acres in celebration of Walker’s 146th birthday and the 80th anniversary of the Chattanooga Audubon Society.

On Friday, March 22, I will give a poetry reading at the Meacham Writers Workshop, held at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. I am one of several Chattanooga community writers invited to participate.