There are two vast cottonwoods near a creek
                    when I walk between them I shiver.

                                        – Jim Harrison (“Doors”)

Our buckeye portal, a perfect pair to pass through.
Killion and Snyder’s yellow pines, side by side—
this partnership of trees for years near the top

of Sulphur, garnets, quartz and crystal, shafts
of granite thrust out of the earth as weathered
phallic totems among blue oak vast skies.

What words, what power lingers in the leaves,
whose dark eyes see more than mine, I wonder
with each welcome here—these gray limbs

dressed alike, or not at all, buckeyes arched
in season. Passing through either way
along this cow track refines the senses.

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