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Archive for June, 2019

Walking the River

At dusk
the clouds begin
to draw shadows
on the Gravelies.
The sun still high IMG_1255
softens
behind
breezes
which lighten
our steps.
We walk
quiet
one behind
the other,
snaking
our way
through high grass,
following
the shallow brook
to where
it rolls
timidly
un noticed
into the Madison.

Every step
is a journey
of memories
as variedimg_9170
as the riffles
of this river:
cut deep
by years of life.

I welcome them all-
sweet
bitter
tender
raw
mournful.
They wrap around me

a cloak of life,
bright
as the wildflowers
I place on the plaque.
Here I am again,
to celebrate
“a lover of this river.”

 

 

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Every summer it’s a crap shoot –
arrive Qy3egV_PBzi1CQGsiZzsnNTu7lqXUQur5ZLAqK-9buUfw-Fg8sv5wsho45JkhzWIVWr9W90=s159.jpg
tired
open
the cabin door
and survey the devastation:
winter
yields heavy casualties
6,000 feet up,
broken pipes,
bat infestation
mice infestation
at the very least
maybe a zillion
dead flies.

Oh this poor
so treasured
and loved abode:
what inhumanity
to leave
you
alone
in the frozen prairie
to fend against
the elements,
snow pushing
up your barricaded
doors
then
turning
into spring rivers
swelling
your window wells,
alone
you stand
left unguarded
by your people –
such fickle souls
who rush
into your arms
only when the sun
is highest
and the sweet grass
covers your fields
wild flowers
dancing
in the summer
light –
then they love you,
only then,
but alas
not as much
as the ground squirrels
who borrow
scheme
route
their lives
around your edges
planning the
the ultimate siege –
when
they might
party
on the couch
sitting
upright
little snouts
turned
toward
the mountain view,
the yellow blotch
on their chins
a badge
of martial genius .

What adversaries
these lovable
creatures:
whose prairie
we have dared
defile.
No weapons
can destroy you:
and
many there are:
water,
urine,
mint,
and the dreaded gumballs.

And so year after year
we listen to your
chirping
watch you eat
wildflowers
and plan our Armageddon –
perhaps
next year
we’ll
break down
and try
the ultra sonic boom
from Amazon.

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Arrival (for Allen)


Fan mountain  
stands
stoic
in the distance
dusted with snow,
the valley opens
verdant
radiant
lush
with feeding steer
dark
slow
steady in step
feasting
deep
into sunset,
as white pelicans
ride driftsIMG_1255
over the river
in the last light.
I open my window
to let the dog
luxuriate
in the scents
his dreams
know so well,
a bat
skirts
the dash
with a welcome kiss.
High in the night sky
Jupiter 
blinks,
but it’s not till
I stop
on the Three Dollar bridge
roll the window
down
and listen for
your voice
that
I know I’m home.

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