Wishpoosh

Denny and I, with his Wasco legs, inside Gifford Pinchot…

Late, when the dust of the gravel road settles, fast, into black…

We cup our hands, to make an old whistle, like the hoot of an owl

To settle our minds, to settle our fears, of the directionless twirl of sky…

Upon hearing the tones from our small soft hands, deer stand still, freeze

Their black pool eyes, resolved, never leave our movements…

And the stars we see above the maze of Douglas Fir

Are old stories still being told anew…

Our voices, with purpose, retell them to each other.

19 Comments on “Wishpoosh

  1. This makes me wonder how many have told and retold the stories of the same stars whilst sitting next campfires or during horizontal viewing.
    I always appreciate reading what you write.

    Like

  2. I hear the whispers of past generations being passed down. This is a lovely, rich piece, Elan! Also, that image is stunning. May I ask where you found it?

    Liked by 2 people

  3. The twirl of the sky beautiful imagery in this work. I wonder would you consider submitting some works to my site http://www.myfanwy80.com (please check for authenticity myfanwy&friends) it’s free to submit all rights are reserved to the author and it’s linked to twitter also I am illustrating that all writers have their own style which is as unique as we each are. If your interested please feel free to submit to myfanwy80@yahoo.com
    But either way fantastic work thank you for sharing this 🙏

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Favorite image

    Favorite line: “Their black pool eyes, resolved, never leave our movements…”
    I’m going to freak out my wife and quote the line the next time we run across our neighborhood deer. [She’ll think I might even have a deep, insightful side…naaah!]
    Also liked, “And the stars we see above the maze of Douglas Fir”
    Considering this is in a possibly/probably smoke-impacted area of WA, this line holds even more meaning for me.
    Great work.

    Liked by 2 people

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