The Primeval Forest Remembers
Perhaps it is natural, a legend afloat in the valley of trees–
a tale of fallen timber requires no origin, no doubt. Desire to gratify
curiosity, to see associations with secluded, umbrageous remnants.
Examination reveals there never had been a floor or windows,
never roofed for man. All that remains: the valley, the myth-making
faculty, glorified as “Lost Cabin” and such sighs. But no mystery.
Not a vestige of the original remains now in the cold season,
wrapped in frosty shadows. The sun shines obliquely, generates
very little grateful warmth to follow the absence,
determining the species.
Remix poem. Source Text: http://www.sierraclub.org/john_muir_exhibit/life/life_and_letters/chapter_10.aspx