Walk
We go up into the foothills thigh-deep in snow and t-shirts it's 70 degrees today at 10,000 feet the young trees half-buried we shake the ice out of our sneakers scale the biggest rock. At the edge it's a 60 foot drop we light up watch for elk and bears the mountains only get bigger from here the valley slopes down jagged but there are footholds. The rain is falling miles away blankets of feathers we've left the snow behind there's scat on the ground hoofprints in the dirt the boulders are temples to a cataclysm the eyes of white aspen watching. A cross for one who fell to kiss the earth for the last time we are two miles into the sun's own bedchamber I take a long piss into the river do a Daniel San on one of the stones. The pine trees are rocket trails in the indelible blue sky I slip but a branch catches me "Thanks Mom" I say we burn down another joint in sacrifice worship the nearby peaks and if I could just explain one thing to you about Colorado it would be this
from Jasper's Folly Poetry Journal #1 (Cherry Publications, 2023)
