FROM THE EARLY YEARS
In a leave-rustling breeze,
The child dismounted a broom-stick horse,
Dropped a Daisy cap buster and ran to the
Saddle of his grandfather’s knee,
Excited to hear about the Natural Bridge,
Buck Hollow, and Stony Man
Where greenstone folded into the
Sheer and jagged cliffs with scalloped
Balconies far above the small streams.
And they will go there, someday,
To Buck Hollow, following the faint rumblings
From millions of years ago, and stand at the
Ribbed-rack spine of the earth breaking
At the height of the sky. The child would release
The leg of the older and dance wildly as if
Chasing the monarchs. They would walk
Symbiotically along the pumice trails; their eyes
Striking the granite mosaic as if to beat out
A new hue. The Rorschach cliffs will reveal a
Pirate’s ship where cannons could be swabbed
And mounted for an attack, an overhang becomes
The devil’s table, and a rock chimney to send
Smoke signals throughout the valley.
But soon
The clasped hands will dissolve slowly and
The child would continue, running ahead, while
High above, a single eagle is carried on a southward Wind.
And after rain, ice, and wind, future millennials
Might find in limestone cast footsteps,
Perhaps along a rippling stream,
And know the grandfather and child cavorted
In the Daughters of the Stars playground.
______________________________________________
Want to try your hand at poetry? Email me at poeticiapoems@gmail.com
Featured image credits to Çiğdem Onur on Pixabay
