Fortress north
Cold as glass
Friendship south
Take your task
To the number
Nine eight two
Through the wood
No lion fears
In the sky the water veers
Small of scale
Step across
Perspective should not be lost
In the center of four alike
Small, split,
Three winged and slight
What we take to be
Our strongest tower of delight
Falls gently
In December night
Looking back from treasure ground
There’s the spout!
A whistle sounds.

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Lane
Two twenty two
You’ll see an arc of lights
Weight and roots extended
Together saved the site
Of granite walls
Wind swept halls
Citadel in the night
A wingless bird ascended
Born of ancient dreams of flight
Beneath the only standing member
Of a forest
To the south
White stone closest
At twelve paces
From the west side
Get permission
To dig out.

Acrostic: ABBOT/CABBOT
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Of all the romance retold
Men of tales and tunes
Cruel and bold
Seen here
By eyes of old
Stand and listen to the birds
Hear the cool, clear song of water
Harken to the words:
Freedom at the birth of a century
Or May 1913
Edwin and Edwina named after him
Or on the eighth a scene
Where law defended
Between two arms extended
Below the bar that binds
Beside the long palm’s shadow
Embedded in the sand
Waits the Fair remuneration
White house close at hand.

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At stone wall’s door
The air smells sweet
Not far away
High posts are three
Education and Justice
For all to see
Sounds from the sky
Near ace is high
Running north, but first across
In jewel’s direction
Is an object
Of Twain’s attention
Giant pole
Giant step
To the place
The casque is kept.

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View the three stories of Mitchell
As you walk the beating of the world
At a distance in time
From three who lived there
At a distance in space
From woman, with harpsichord
Silently playing
Step on nature
Cast in copper
Ascend the 92 steps
After climbing the grand 200
Pass the compass and reach
The foot of the culvert
Below the bridge
Walk 100 paces
Southeast over rock and soil
To the first young birch
Pass three, staying west
You’ll see a letter from the country
Of wonderstone’s hearth
On a proud, tall fifth
At its southern foot
The treasure waits.

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The first chapter
Written in water
Near men
With wind rose
Behind bending branches
And a green picket fence
At the base of a tall tree
You can still hear the honking
Shell, limestone, silver, salt
Stars move by day
Sails pass by night
Even in darkness
Like moonlight in teardrops
Over the tall grass
Years pass, rain falls.

Acrostic: SELOY
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In the shadow
Of the grey giant
Find the arm that
Extends over the slender path
In summer
You’ll often hear a whirring sound
Cars abound
Although the sign
Nearby
Speaks of Indies native
The natives still speak
Of him of Hard word in 3 Vols.
Take twice as many east steps as the hour
Or more
From the middle of one branch
Of the v
Look down
And see simple roots
In rhapsodic mans soil
Or gaze north
Toward the isle of B.

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Pass two friends of octave
In December
Ride the man of oz
To the land near the window
There’s a road that leads to
Dark forest
Where white is in color
With two maps
After circle and square
In July and August
A path beckons
To mica and driftwood
Under that
Which may be last touched
Or first seen standing
Look north at the wing
And dig
To achieve
By dauntless and inconquerable
Determination
Your goal.

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