on hikes, I look down
pathologically eyeing
whatever the dirt offers
elk tracks, deer scat
bountiful in backwood
dinner country
large, whole
raven wings
disengaged
a cupped-hand basket
of buckhorn cholla spines
the purple lips of the pouting
crescent milkvetch, a pile
of orange bones, a rock
rolled to reveal a Prince
Albert tobacco tin—an impish
prank of preservation
further down the floodplain
there is a Whirlpool microwave
dangling from a cottonwood
I won’t see it, I look down
I have only heard of such marvels
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what a great piece - this listing of detritus - telling us so much about the landscape - from flowers to bones to a tobacco tin - building a picture of a wild dangerous place - that's both natural and human - but definitely occupied. I laughed at the microwave in the tree - and the humility - or is it focus - of the poet/hiker. wry and witty stuff. Bravo.
ReplyDeleteNature’s news is the best news, but I’m not sure about the marks that humans have left!
ReplyDeleteWe ought to be ashamed of ourselves, leaving so much junk behind!
ReplyDeleteTell me again why we want to save the human species?
ReplyDelete