We Stumbled Upon a Wild Turkey

In the middle of the woods
we stumbled upon
a wild turkey.
On Memorial Day
2007.
My son and I looped around
the Thorn Mountain Bike Trail
until we were hopelessly slowed
and took the Buckeye
in the wrong direction
straight out of Findley.
A peculiar site:
Civilization
for the first time in four or more days.
A farm silo
sitting off Pratt Road,
is the place where we turned back.
At the crossroads of Wyandot
and Hickory Grove
we chose a shorter path
Past the skeletal carcass
of a deer long dead
killed in January by poachers or coyote
is unspoken history,
and we are clueless.
For the past four days
we have lived in this place
under a canvas roof
as brothers,
our relationship changed.
I steer this boy now
towards the man he is to become
through the wetlands and the lilly - pad swamp
where we caught pumpkinseed fish
and bluegill,
and a solitary snail
hanging by its shell.
In the woods
we learned to forage for wild garlic
by its heady smell
and Ohio - grown ginger
which has yet to mature.
(if we wait til the fall it will have
its characteristic snap.)
Spice weed makes a fine,
and intoxicating tea.
I have found this out by our campfire.
The leaf starts out like fine citrus,
but finishes bitter,
and above all hypnotic.
Above all this is what it means
to be father and son.
Today we are leader and follower;
teacher and student.