common / Mackinac Poems

Grand Again

Stan Lerner

 June 8, 2010

To the Editor:
 
The Grand Hotel posted my poem, "Grand Again" on their Web site's
blog. The poem, which is also featured in my book, Ninety Nine Posts,
has garnered a worldwide readership, but the reaction readers have been
having to seeing it posted in the place which it was written has been truly
incredible and very rewarding for this humble author. Mackinac Island and The Grand Hotel gave to me one of my life's great
memories--it means a lot to me to be able to give something back.
 
Stan Lerner
 
GRAND AGAIN
By Stan Lerner
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I talked to myself about the air, not on the island but out there.
Too often polluted by despair.
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I talked to myself about the Rouge Plant asleep, a betrayed soul which was all of ours to keep.
Once a symbol of might, now a symbol of darkness like the night.
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I talked to myself about hearing the old tired voice of Robert Frost speak of the road less traveled—an endeavor in which I have also dabbled.
There was indeed a fork in the road, a part of life which we have all been told.
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I talked to myself about click, click, klop, click, klop, a horse passed by.
A sound from another time.
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I asked myself, “Better off now or better off then? Will civilization need to begin again?”
I talked to myself about this a lot, click, klop, click, klop…
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I talked to myself about dress too casual, the few with vision, the abundance without, the profanity spoken by teenagers, how base we’ve become, and the beauty of an island surrounded by blue water that tolerates it all.
The Grand does make one feel small.
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I talked to myself about what might become of the rest of my years.
A bird flew near, then off toward a lighthouse no longer in use.
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I talked to myself about what might become of the rest of my years.
All of the hopes and a few of the fears.
 
On the porch of the Grand I sat and rocked.
And to myself I talked.
I talked to myself about taking time to love and time to think—a slight breeze blew from a direction I did not expect.
I watched as the flags moved by the wind and hoped we could all be Grand again.

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To: Stan Lerner When did you

To: Stan Lerner When did you pen this masterpiece? Is your book NINETY-NINE POSTS still avaiable? Is it a book of poems, or a mix? I'm curious what made you write that poem? I wrote seven short poems in 2009 when I spent a few days at the GRAND HOTEL. I was so inspired those days, and I wished I could have stayed longer. I hope you get to read and reply to this. ====