I Like Moose: pt 3 & 4

III.

June. Chuckles had given me an axe with my name on it. My job at the bay was, in a sense, to maintain/contain erosion that was claiming parts of the park. I served as a life force. Davey Crocket in stance. (It was hard not to notice the ever-changing water scene. I found myself caught, between axe swings, amazed by natural flow).

I did much of the hard labor, like chopping down dying Brown Ash trees and hauling tons of mulch and shit in the mornings, before the heat came. I renamed campsites on pieces of wood with white paint after Maliseet words like Nomihtu, which means 'to see.' I yearned for indicators of what this place used to be, sans dilapidated remnants. In the afternoon I led tourists and campers through the inner-workings of the park. Down trails I had cleared to get a better view. Most of the time someone would recognize my New York accent and exclaim, "You ain't from 'round these parts!" They, in turn, were on my path.

IV

The sky was larger here; it forced me to write about it. An expanse in space, I could see for miles in any direction and it was grand. The forecast for this evening called for a meteor shower and there was a group of locals who gathered in the front yard of someone's acres in Lubec to watch it rain.

the stars are fastened in the sky

flat pebbles

skipped across black depth

It was a dark ocean lit by millions of candles, light eyes, iridescent fish. Millions of comet tails bursting across the atmosphere. It could take full minutes to move from one side to the other.

and in between the moon

there is space

upon space

It was an ethereal light show. I felt as though I should pray. It felt as though God was there, exercising some holy superfluous attribute.

The heavens observers, whose lawn that had been taken over, met on every full moon and comet show, brandished with their large telescopes and computer screens hooked-up to enhance everything. I saw Venus, and she was beautiful.

And then it hit. What we were watching, what was happening, was beyond balls of gas, rock and combustion. True beauty, unadulterated, zoomed in on, but left unscathed.

it is late and the sky is dripping light.