photo via: the ghost factory
I am posting this poem with permission from the author, Stephanie Bell Jilcott. In her poem, Ms. Jilcott captures the memory of a recent adventure in Goose Creek State Park.
In the hunter green Subaru, to Goose Creek State Park, with no cares,
Rode Wallace, Goodman, Jilcott, Blackley, and Wards-squared.
Upon examining the park map, Blackley did say:
“Let’s take a less conventional path on this sunny day."
So at the end of the gravelly trail, the group of friends pressed on.
Wallace let of his leash, to frolic in sand and sun.
Off the trail they veered, hugging the shoreline.
They found bottles, and buoys, and even pieces of twine.
When marsh turned to swamp, and swamp became waters deep,
Out of the friends, came not a complaint or a peep.
On this great adventure, there was no shortage of male chivalry:
Goodman made sure everyone safely crossed the tree.
And don’t forget Bryant, who despite a bum knee,
Offered a generous piggy-back to Rachel and Stephanie.
Dear Rachel, our heroine, we will never forget.
A braver leader a group never would get.
Marshes she forded and trees she climbed…
A safer path for us all, she was trying to find.
Through wetlands they stomped, to reach firmer ground.
Briars parted, ducked under, a tree-line they found.
Delirious, yet rational, they trooped for a hard twenty,
When at last the gravel trail they found, a big WOOPEE!
Satisfied with El Tapatio, reveling in their war wounds,
They rode back home, rocking out to Counting Crow tunes.