Wolverine Stew: Arboretum in Autumn

Shining dried leaves of gold coins

Cool but not cold, crisp but not desiccating

Sky painted over with light, pale strokes

Sanguine ivy creeping through bark skin

Nestled past the graveyard encircled by hawks

As the last of the bees gather 

Wooden fairy house staged from sticks and latched with leaves

Hushed hill of degrading green

The sun still hangs above, yet the crickets chirp

Wilting daisies and remnants of Black-eyed Susans

Squirrel waits by the amphitheater for a concert I suppose

Dry lake of reeds and towering Queen Anne’s lace 

Brush your hand over them to hear the waves

Or wait for Eurus to kindly produce them

Snapdragons swim in shallower parts

Sandy coasts of stampedes surround the waters

I can hear mechanical echoes on the empty railroads

I wonder what their destination is

Never have I found a stiller willow

The Spanish graffiti says “you are my world”

Is it rustling leaves or something else beneath this creaking bridge?

Logs long-covered in lichen

There’s a forest of stinging nettles

I can see gold reach toward the sky

As I exit towards the graveyard 


Hello! My name is Clyde Granzeier, and I am a senior at the University of Michigan majoring in Creative Writing and Literature and minoring in History. This is Wolverine Stew, a weekly poem blog about the strange, stressful, and fun parts of life here in Ann Arbor. Each poem will cover something different, ranging from D&D with friends to the jack-o-lanterns across campus to the trumpet-shaped and puffball mushrooms that pop up in the Arb after it rains. This will basically be a stew of experiences (pun absolutely intended) from my time at U of M, and I hope you enjoy! P.S. No wolverines were harmed in the making of this stew : )

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