Roads
Changing Roads
By TFSneider
We take roads for travel.
We take roads for granted.
We take roads to unravel
Life’s songs previously chanted.
The same roads we take to work.
The same roads we take to play.
They only change their overcoat
And take you a “familiar” way.
But, Hundreds of years of Indian trail
Change by different rolling wheels
Miles of sand and gravel path
Change to concrete and steel.
How do we re-visit a region
Of our life in the earlier day?
By riding back thru roads to legions
Of former haunts, friends, and play.
Ah… the roads of my former life
And the crossroads of other souls
Change by the ravage of time
Change all our values and goals
As I ride down Six Mile Road
Out of Sault Ste Marie
Past the gambling casinos, the Cozy Inn,
And into the town of Brimley.
Past the Bay Mills Indian Homes
Of the famous Chippewa Tribe.
Along the shore of Whitefish bay
On Two-wheeled steel I ride.
I took a left up West Tower Road
40 years back my mind wants to slide
To a steep cliff over Spectacle Lake,
An Indian Cemetery on the other side.
How just 40 years has changed this place
From a peaceful, tranquil view.
To resort houses, playgrounds, and parks
For the rich and privileged few.
And just on the other side of the road
The Mission Hill Indian Cemetery lay
Centuries of serene resting souls
Disturbed constantly by the “modern day”.
Ah… the roads of my former life
And the crossroads of other souls
Change by the ravage of time
Change by our values and goals.
I rolled down the wooded lane
Under canopies of maples and oaks.
To the corner of Dollar Settlement
And memories of its elderly folks.
There used to be a hamburger stand
And a friendly variety store,
Just past the small white Christian church
None are there… anymore.
Just down the road was Pendles Swamp
Lois and Agnes DeMerse lived there
In a two-room log Cabin
With the partridge, beaver, and bear.
I used to stay with friend, Dick Splan
On the corner of South Plantation Road.
Where we hunted and fished area land
My God, how the memories unfold!
Lakeshore Drive to Bay View Park,
To set camp and rest for the day.
And peacefully sleep on Lake Superior’s shores
To the rolling waters of Whitefish bay.
Ah… the roads of my former life
And the crossroads of other souls
Change by the ravage of time
Change by our values and goals.
A cool brisk morning and fresh lake air
I pack up my scoot and head west.
Along Gitche Gumee’s Lakeshore drive
And an unknown, never-ending quest.
40 years ago this flat pavement was gravel
Passed the Naomagong and Pendles Streaming
Where the speckled trout danced on our lines
And the Smelt and Rainbow teaming.
Abe Lablah, the Chippewa Chief,
Wet a line with Dick and I.
Now neither walk the trickling shore.
From my eye, a tear; my breathe, a sigh.
I’ve lost the smell of the cedar and pine.
I’ve lost the sound of crashing waves.
I’m entering a maze of houses and roads
And I seem to loose my way.
The shoreline has changed to public beaches
The woods changed to a residential squat.
Roads, please take me from this place
What once seemed Utopian, now, is NOT!
Ah… the roads of my former life
And the crossroads of other souls
Change by the ravage of time
Change by our values and goals.
We take roads for travel.
We take roads for granted.
We take roads to unravel
Life’s songs previously chanted.
©copyright Timothy F. Sneider, 2/12/11