Tag: Hiking

Ruins Near A Waterfall

Snippets of blue and clouds Poke through rafters That once held meaning. Still, something walks Within the ruins Weathered old boots…and Ashen hands, brushing Stone, steel, and rust Feeling along debris As if it were night In the summer shade.   Outside, where tourists… Continue Reading “Ruins Near A Waterfall”

Ramona Falls’ Mist

Ramona’s whisper requites us to ourselves—our fires extinguished, our thirst sated. That voice, a pact between mountain and moisture, is a quiet call to us The stumbling pilgrims, forest wanderers, wishful sages who suffer from acute chatter. Its language—slow—near wordless, near nothing, paints upon… Continue Reading “Ramona Falls’ Mist”

When Josephine The Singer Leaves

There’s a burning inside her and you can see it when she’s holding in her voice. You’re lucky she holds it in, for when it hits air, it cuts you. These cuts cause you to fall inside her furnace, scald you, sting your heart… Continue Reading “When Josephine The Singer Leaves”

Social Distancing

The warmth of the car Its heater The soothing voice of its radio The insulation it promises   The thoughts we have When losing the trail In the middle of a snowstorm   (Image entitled Bones. Click on image to enlarge. More images can… Continue Reading “Social Distancing”

Traveling Near the Dark

There’s a quietness about the river broken by a random leap, splash of steelheads. a prairie hawk loses a feather. The natives drink a loud liquor on their fishing platforms, dip nets looking for fish who choose to become parts of ceremonies.   The… Continue Reading “Traveling Near the Dark”

Wet Hands

If your hands come away wet Then you know you drink With passion   Click on image to enlarge. Lost Lake, Oregon.          

Living With The Volcano

A wide emptiness sits over Spirt Lake from Harry’s Ridge to Harmony Lake Viewpoint. An emptiness of vast distance with stars or sun, clouds and wind…a series of personalities, always in the process of change, threatens to knock all thought out of you. You… Continue Reading “Living With The Volcano”

Footprints

These cold hills stand unconcerned of what walks beneath them. Snow, that made it through the day’s rain, will be covered by night’s newest layer of white. But here today, the rain collects upon the trail. Footprints lie scattered. There are recent ones, still… Continue Reading “Footprints”

Wet Pine Needles

Running the brittle floor—upon leaves settled to soil. With mild hands wandering—through air and pressed sunlight. Becoming branches—breaching the film of moist sky. Clinging to winter’s sun—lucent thoughts, fictile. Moving with the wildness—of the warm, fragile body. Its abstractions of molds—ravines, dips, and death.… Continue Reading “Wet Pine Needles”

Mountain Lake

I sit with her Placing her in memory Giving thoughts strength, yet In her silence, she frightens me. I rely on others Camping upon her shore To soothe my worry. And although I haven’t Seen her rimmed with snow Echoing the clearest of nights,… Continue Reading “Mountain Lake”

%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this: