The real name is Edson Park, of course, but when our kids were little, the oldest could not say Edson at first, so it became Emset, our magical, mystical place. We would always stop on our way to Jasper to let them stretch their legs and for the washrooms. On our trip to Jasper this time, we stopped at the “coffee recycling station”.
Way back in time, this golden place
was where we would stop
to let the kids race
in a magical land, to a jet high atop
a spire adorned base.
For a short time, we would let them loose
near railway hand car,
and if they weren’t too tired and it wasn’t too far,
perhaps on to the railroad caboose.
Much time and so many trips have passed us by,
like the fleeting glimpse of our youth
and each time we spy it, remember we try
to see if our recollections still hold truth.
These days, on our road trips to Jasper,
we could never dare drive past there,
without recalling the place and how it was named,
but without our young children, it’s just not quite the same.