Flying Island

        North Shore Triptych   1. Split Rock Beneath the lighthouse the view opens to water past the pebble beach— the cold and solemn blue  of Lake Superior, washing the hardest stones endlessly  into smooth, round cobble.    2. Gooseberry Falls On the climb to the falls, only forest is always visible— rosehips, moss, cedar. The sound of water mutes the quiet step by step. Every wood handhold  is written over with initials and forgotten names. Circling back, we cross a metal walkway with a message chalked on the rusty railing: everything will be fine.   3. Tributary A swaying bridge spans  the Great-lake River  that rushes over rugged slate and greywacke—  rock tilted by force that now seems scenic  as we pause to look out over the whitewater, forgetting for a moment the violent history above the earth and below. Charlotte Melin grew up in Indiana and returns to visit. Recently retired from the University of Mi...

        Before the Frost In the bouldered prairie sumac flares up red here and there, and bison rest between  stiff spikes of mullein  with wooly leaves. The creek waterfall  has dried to a trickle, the rocks that flank it shelter yet moss in layers once carved by torrents.  Elsewhere, deer bound off into the woods, a spent oriole nest  lies beside the path beneath cottonwoods. After the rain comes, small bird voices will fill every bush and tree one last time before the frost. Charlotte Melin grew up in Indiana and returns to visit. Recently retired from the University of Minnesota, she lives in Northfield and has published widely about German poetry, the environmental humanities, and teaching.