We start with trails
that haven’t changed
near the top of the world—
switchbacks stacked
in scree
to gaps between
bare peaks like teeth
above the timberline
chewing at the blue,
blue sky
and the solitude
waiting in ambush
to welcome you home
to rainbow trout
now spawning,
green backs packed
in the leak
of a snowmelt lake
where white clouds
float upon water.
Alone in the smear
of starlight falling
upon solid rock,
it glows
like a lantern.
We start with trails
we know
how to get there.
for Lee and Earl
drycrikjournal 