A poem next to an image of the Log Ramps sculpture, and a small colored-in scribble on the other side.

Inspired by LLoyd Hamrol's Log Ramps

Poem by Sage Fairman


How does one find their refuge? What qualifies

as a safe space, as a home away from home? I float,

searching for this place I can call mine. Natural,

close, protecting; as reassuring as a friendly smile. This

place knows my strengths and weaknesses, faults and

achievements, my story. Folding around me like a warm

blanket, my refuge can be a place of celebration and



Searching for what is familiar, I approach

cautiously. The sprouting plants prickle against my

legs, as if trying to tell me something. I settle into the

packed ground, allowing the logs to cover me with



We all grow from the dirt upwards, like black-

berry bushes and ferns, crawling their way to the sky in

hopes of reaching the sun. We all live in greenhouses

that warm our souls to prepare us for the outside

world. Our purpose? To climb the ramp, to celebrate

life, to leave what we find familiar and stow away our

refuge for later.