There are some canyons
we might use again
sometime.
– William Stafford (“Indian Caves in the Dry Country”)
The world may try to end, or after the final battle sorts
good and evil, or when the cogs in the Mayan clock
lock, there will be strays that escape the global gather—
names overlooked in the book of life, or just plain missed
by the crew of angels in new outfits on their first trail ride.
It won’t be perfect. If the earth winds down or the sun
goes static, spotless in this universe, some will adapt
to the lack of plenty in an empty world. We will learn
to breathe clean air, find springs tapped into the Tertiary
and survive with another batch of birds and flowers—
little Edens, here and there, in the wasteland—but
we will never be the same again. Imagine all
the fresh colors and species bent to wild attractions,
geared to breed and seed, beckoning like iridescent
kaleidoscopes, pulsing with a lust to succeed.
We will start over. What knowledge we begin with
will become myth, eventually forgotten and unnecessary.
But there are some canyons we might use again sometime.
drycrikjournal 