God I miss you
As I knew you
The expansive evergreens
Steaming sap
Soon to be syrup
Family waffle recipes
Their yellow pages crinkled
And sprinkled with flour
God I miss you
As mist rising on a lake unruffled
It’s twinkling glass
Refracting infinitely
The light of each new morning
An enigmatic loon
Disappears at the sense of watching eyes
It’s sublime and eerie voice
Shimmers across the water
And through me
God I miss you
As the burn of my legs
Trekking towards emerald crests
When sweat cools to chills
The summit’s intermittent gusting
Exposed at last to the grand view
Surrounded by a patchwork of farmland
The towns’ business unknown and unseen
God I miss you
As the greens dry into yellows
Electric in their autumnal joy
Surrounded by swells of orange and red
Pin cherry,
Beech,
Mountain ash,
Red oak,
And Maple
God I miss you
As the leaf littered Path
Russet with needles and acorns deconstructed
Steadily crunching through
Tunnels of bolstered trunks and branches
The covered bridge and rusting silos
A red barn in the distance
Stone walls sketching pastures forgotten
The bright white steeples amid fresh pines
God I miss you
As the first snowfall
It comes and melts away
Checked red and black wool coats
And the sting of not quite frozen rain
God I miss you
As the valley towns
Ageless and cozy
Each corner store and farmers’ market
Chocolate moose pies, deer droppings,
And little maple children
God I miss you
As Brick and ivy
Winding roads dispersing into foothills
Power lines professing to be trees
The sacred V of
Canadian geese
Alerting the seasons’ change
Turning the page with passage and song
God I miss you
As damp dark woods
Where only threads of golden sun
Stretch feebly to the mossy floor
White rivers weaving into clear streams
The brookies darting from the shadows
– Téo Chesney
Téo Chesney is currently living in New Orleans and is a student of the University of New Orleans’ Creative Nonfiction MFA program. He was adopted from Brazil as an infant but was raised in Southern Vermont. During his undergraduate studies at St. Lawrence University, Téo came out as a transgender man, which significantly altered how he considers the self and writing. Téo’s struggles with identity and belonging shaped much of his prose writing, while his active childhood in Vermont shaped his poetry. Téo has published works of fiction to CrabFat magazine, and the Paragon Journal, and one work of poetry to the St. Lawrence University undergraduate magazine The Laurentian.