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A few hundred yards from the Inn
4-Poster Bed at the Hawthorne Inn
Evening shot of Walden Pond
The Thoreau Family Plot
(Henry's to the left - a drizzly day)
An Inn
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As one lies in the soft four-poster bed
In Concord’s historic Hawthorne Inn
Awaiting the arrival of dreamtime and sleep
Faint footsteps are heard on the grounds below.
Looking out, the apparitions
Of Hawthorne, Thoreau, and Emerson appear
Again walking this familiar soil.

Listening more carefully
Voices are heard
Discussing timeless ideas.
Little did these souls fathom
That the imprints from their journeys
Would create a path for so many to follow.
Comments: The beautiful Hawthorne Inn is located on property surveyed by Thoreau and at one time owned by Hawthorne, the Alcott family, and Emerson. In many ways, my trip to Concord, Mass. was a pilgrimage. I walked Walden Pond, toured Emerson's home, and visited their grave sites. I marveled at their lives and was amazed that such wise thinkers came from this small New England town in the mid 1800's.

The poem above was entered in draft form into the Inn's guest book. If you want to know more about the Hawthorne Inn, go to http://www.concordmass.com. (To read other recommendations, click here.)

Only the Ways Have Changed

While reading of Thoreau and Emerson,
I am taken back by how differently death came.
Henry's beloved brother John
Dead from the simple nick of a razor.
The five year old son
The Emerson heir
Taken by the fever.
My thoughts return to today
Only the ways have really changed.
Mother and daughter dead
Amid the mesh of steel.
The bent old man
Lungs black as night
Coughs his last breath.
Ah, the Reaper finds his ways
Comments: As I read a biography of Thoreau, I could not help but be shocked at what simple events led to death. Not that such things don't occur today, but how modern antibiotics and medical treatments save lives that would have been lost in the mid 1800's. Yet, as we know, death still comes a-calling.
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