It’s not as tall as it used to be
That mountain peak by the inland sea
A twisting trail leads to the climb
It switches back again and again
So just take your time.

The old forest with white pines so tall
Built the houses down in Saint Paul
Younger trees have taken their place
And that old gabbro rock claims the only open space.

Chorus
I sit on a rocky height
Far below the forest is bathed in Lake Superior light
The rock is warmed by the afternoon sun
The breeze grows cool when evening comes
In the air, everywhere, the scent of pine.

It takes a day to go up and back
A rocky trail, weathered and cracked
Up above, the endless northern sky
Where land and water stir the air
And the ravens fly.

And that rock is astoundingly old
Near the start, when histories told
The vistas abound if you make the climb

©2022 Craig Hansen