How many photos, how reassured
they haven’t left for other states
of deployment? Alta’s elephant,
Sawtooth, the Kaweah peaks
under snow like sharp teeth
tearing into the blue, always
a hold of heaven. Not far
in bird miles, I check my bearings,
my well-being, my insignificance
to become comforted, somehow,
with this affirmation, this renewal
of facts. Not the same as being
held in the land of awe, I look to
the Great Western Divide
for security—to inhale and breathe
easier knowing they always
have my back, that we both
are still in the same place.
I will lift up my eyes unto the hills . . .
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