My mind hiccupping back
to that sweet May smell
of high snowpack melting,
tickling down river beds – glacial shock
to the underbelly of sun-stunned rock –
I keep thinking didn’t it smell like rain
to a thirsty traveler, but as usual
there comes the question of honesty. Really
I couldn’t have been thinking of travelers,
thirsty or otherwise, for wasn’t I lost
in […]
Filed under: Brenda Leifso, Writing the Land by akublik Date 30 September, 2007
1 Comment »
Driving the 22 north, noon sun and wind
warm on the arm in the ears
through the rolled down window
kd lang’s Hymns rolling too
through the long-grassed foothills
and you beside me,
the baby snoozing in the back seat,
it’s so hard not to feel drowsily,
contentedly alive, river water and campground dust
in the nooks of my elbows, my toes,
on my fingers […]
Filed under: Brenda Leifso, Writing the Land by akublik Date 30 September, 2007
2 Comments »
