Years gone by but never sullen,
Even the screamers silenced,
With a worn back down past,
We'd hike towards the Nisnak trail,
Reach for the end of this and prevail,
This natures vessel never discarded,
But reused and to replace,
Its desiccated remains forgotten,
For the once found place,
In this forest floors domain,
Only these woods with their forest so old and overgrown,
Schoen Lake with its mountain and parkland known,
A cavity in that trunk,
Filled with the herbage sunken,
This is natures flower pot filled,
Now all those ferns, ivies and wild geraniums so stilled.
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