after Wallace Stegner’s “Crossing into Eden”
Five miles in
and 3000 feet up:
a grueling ascent
of a tortured canyon
called Hades—
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after Wallace Stegner’s “Crossing into Eden”
Five miles in
and 3000 feet up:
a grueling ascent
of a tortured canyon
called Hades—
Continue reading
Your commitment to Truth will not produce truth,
which demands not resolve, but a ceded heart.
When a shepherd’s flock seeks another’s fold and the pastor loudly brays
about his followers being sheep, they are not the ones who have lost the way.
The ponderosa stood proud and lissom,
its bole aglow in the evening sun.
Perhaps thirty years it strove blueward
against drought and frost, and time—
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“I like oranges,” she says, again,
midnight hair thrown back,
amber eyes flashing.
I had heard her, the first time.
How much would you miss a finger
were it not a digit but time:
a century, perhaps, for each—
the handful a millennium?
I search
for left
hands in
a bin
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I dreamed last that you came to visit,
that you had something important to tell.
I was busy stocking shelves at the store,
and asked you to wait for a few minutes.
The doorway facing me allows a slivered
fractional view of a streetside window.
Through the left lower corner, a sign
across the way warns, No Trespassing.
“It’s cold out there, Greg.”
~Iditarod Red Lantern Award Winner Bill Mackey
The mercury read two below zero when I left Twisp.
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