Ode to Range 40
(Dedicated to AMAC Dan - This one's for you bud!)
For Michigan's Guard to sortie,
Considered by them even sporty,
At best, seriously warty,
46 square miles, Range 40.
Crawford County in the Northern lower,
Grass before the Army's mower,
Here life doesn't get much slower,
Drawn like bugs to a flame-thrower.
Attacked by artillery, missile, and plane,
Incoming rounds, rockets and bombs, insane!
For the last 100 years of military reign,
The environs not the same.
The Au Sable, once renown,
Now only fetches a frown.
Balance light as thistledown,
Destroyed by the Army and a town.
My thesis is sure,
The river's impure.
If you have a moment to endure,
Look closely, but don't take their lure.
The East Branch arises in a smoldering pit,
Aerial impact area, for man or beast it's unfit,
Full of explosives, propellants, and grit,
To my mind an incredible crock of shit!
The loggers raped the Grayling,
Now a different failing
Brookies and Browns are ailing,
For the community, not smooth sailing.
The Guard's position, same as the 'Hun',
"Sorry, no smoking gun,
We're just having our fun."
But the damage has been done!