tryingpoetry

Mourning

I'm mourning a place even though I'm not gone yet I know it's language and think often of it's people then and now

I was born on the land of the prairie chicken transplanted many times grew and thrived on this land near this sea

But soon enough I'll leave her it's names still on my tongue pilgrim to a strange land new words to learn again

The fog came back today September's secret to good fishing a flurry of fish rush to the river as it rises on the tide

I walked the river long ago when the children were young finding a fish on a dragons tooth swung long and low losing the big fish to lady Caroline

Today it's different I leave the rivers be and search in the salt with red eyed minnows....

I met brother heron on that river though and he follows me everywhere I go

I stand with brother heron hallowed in his water swift sister kingfisher chatters from her sky and trees

We three worship river, lake, salt chuck church hunting secret swimming truth and silver splashing dreams

A full moon over coal-cars on the edge of a canyon low cut silver tan hay stubble

The same moon stares down at the peak thrust up from serpentine high grey green gloss wreathed in black

My headlights peeking down an empty highway, no music blaring My mind clear like the thin cold air

Grey Figures in the Mist

No line in the darkness Dark shadows like little trees Sparse with one branch

Splashing behind me Smells like grey salt and briney things swimming in schools

Morning clouds in the haze white feathers thud to a stop water erupts

Blood on the beach

Leaving Sky

It's not something in the orange instead the dark grey line into the blue with the trees back-lit from a gentle night sky that hasn't yet said goodbye to the sun

The grass is taller than I am and the rain left it heavy and wet and the truck is loaded and gassed up and I'm ready to get

Mountains, Two Parts

One night the lake was black as space Reflecting stars And the big mountain slope was half in shadow But the other half the color of the full moon Her trees wreathed with snow like scales on a fish and her mood alive and terrible

She was alive in that place Communing with the stars Her slopes shone like metal And her mood like a red hot sun at noon Talking the long language of planets, a niche and I knew she remembered a crucible

I pass her slopes often and she's not been awake since I wonder in the long peel of geologic time did I see her wake once in a million(s) of years and the lake's young depths, are no longer afraid

Peach Fuzz

Trees are like mold seas like overripe spots filled with dew

It's told she'll sing new auts when we're through

Gravity

The world is falling apart I've my corner to live in and worry to poach in Like an egg

But when doesn't boil in a bath Perspective will fill in like a fish I'm finning Into the current

Streamlined and scaled The water sublime I turn downstream and let the water carry me

Then it's like gravity Existing makes you move Towards the center of mass Let it translate you Let go

Bigleaf Maple

I set out in the fall for the east Bigleaf maples yellow against the green douglas fir The grey skies faded into the green At the top of the pass

And the trees change in the east Ponderosa pines and quaking aspen Still yellow and green But the skies blue at last

Until you climb to the north Into the tallest mountain's silver country Where golden larch grow Against cuts of green argillite