Saying Goodbye to December

 

Euclid Creek Reservation, Ohio

—Poetry by Michael Ceraolo, South Euclid, OH 

—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain

 

 

Two Excerpts from Euclid Creek Book Four:

PALIMPSEST NEAR THE MOUTH OF THE CREEK

On a November day
the creek is high near its mouth,
                                                though
the forecast high winds haven't started whipping yet
Most of the leaves have fallen
and are waiting to decay,
                                      and,
given one of the businesses
that was here before,
I take it the trees
are second-growth forest,
not the forest primeval

The remnants of that business
and all other past projects,
with one exception,
                             are located
only in the collective memory
and the pages of history books;
there are no historical markers
commemorating any of them

Had the shipyard still been here
it would have been prudent to wait
to launch any completed ships

Had the kiln that was here before the shipyard
still been in operation,
it could have provided some warmth
against the seasonable weather

Camp Gilbert was a resort
built here two years after
the end of the Civil War,
a few years after the shipyard closed,
when this was still a separate village;
had it survived it too could have provided
a respite from the weather

The Catholic diocese
bought the property from Gilbert
in the 1870s,
                    and
opened a girls' school,
St. Mary's Academy,
                               in 1878
The school was renamed, at a later date,
Villa Angela Academy,
                                  and
it remained in use as a school
until 1990,
                 when
it merged with a nearby boys' school
There was also a boys' school on the property
that was open for over fifty years,
until it was destroyed by fire
in 1946

After the school merger
the school site was obtained
by the Cleveland Public Library
in 1991,
             renovated,
then reconfigured architecturally
for use as a branch of the library
                                                  And
it is still in use as such
as of this writing in 2022

 

 

 

 

A DECEMBER DAY

An unusual sunny Sunday
(the watershed gets a low percentage
of the available sunshine
at this time of year),
                               but
not many are out here
taking advantage of it
                                  It's cold,
                                                but
I think most are home watching the Browns game
I pull into the parking lot
to take my dog for a walk in the park

The street deadends,
                                and
a barrier with vertical bumblebee stripes
that has a reflector
with diagonal yellow and white stripes
prevents traffic from going any further

A large tree has been cut
into five- and six-foot sections

The fence on the third-base side of the baseball field
has a gate in it kept locked and chained

Chase and I stand on a footbridge
over a tributary of the creek
about a mile from where it joins the main branch;
the footbridge is concrete,
with chain-link fencing,
                                  and
I think back to a scene here
a few months earlier:
a dirt island perpendicular to the creek
containing three trees,
                                  the largest
possibly a blue beech,
                                  fallen
across the creek and breaking a wooden fence
on the property on the other side
(it took only a few days
for the fallen trees to be removed
and the fence repaired)

Through the still-standing trees I see
a man and his son kicking a ball
at one of the park's soccer goals
In the creek I see
the remnants of two pumpkins,
one on each side of the bridge

Signs in the park say
all dogs must be on a leash,
per city ordinance,
                           and
I respect that law

Another sign tells me
loitering is prohibited on the bridge,
and I ignore that one,
practicing civil disobedience
to gather the material for this poem

 

 

 

 

 

Today's LittleNip:

 

To have the kind of year you want to have, something has to happen that you can't explain why it happened. Something has to happen that you can't coach.

 

—Bobby Bowden

 

_______________________

—Medusa, with thanks to Michael Ceraolo for his poetry today~and everybody be safe tonight!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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