a poem from the canyon

everyone writes canyon poetry in the fall with the leaves.

heres a quickie, as i went up there with a friend two weeks ago and wrote a poem that became this one:

A Wet Rock

It’s the campground pine and broken earth.
It’s the smell that moves me.
Not the leaves along the avalanche runs
Blushing and bleeding each shade.
They have long since bloomed
Beyond my ability to describe them

Instead look here
To the cool undergrowth of pine.
I am easing my hand inside a wounded tree--
I am finding in the sap
A sticky permanence




more good blogs to come. a poem came out of that "in love with everyone blog" i will post it tommorow.