Hail needles the skin.
Wind cracks the spine.
The mountain holds,
breath seizes on the tongue.
Snow knives the summits.
Cracked hands fumble dry stone,
paper-thin air slices,
bald eagles tilt in the blast.
Alpine skiers parched,
no more Earth Day banners.
Cherry Creek scrapes its bed.
Feces in the bedpan,
chapped gloss smeared,
cocoa hair salted and smoked.
The Zephyr rattles east,
carrying the mountains backward—
Grand Central dissolves
Hail nails the skin.
Wind stabs the spine,
the mountain stretches,
breath freezes the tongue,
Snow visible on the summits
High-altitude crumbling
cracked hands claw at dry stone,
Paper thin air
sharp, jagged edges.
Bald Eagles circle overhead
Alpine sky, dry and broken—
no more Earth Day vegetation
Cherry Creek scrapes the sand
She lifts the bedpan
Chapped gloss superstar lips
Cocoa fur, stained by cigarette smoke
and the wind carries all,
The Zephyr rolls in
Grand Central Station
Peaks in background
I love it so
but stay away …
the mountains
prairies and streams
Each morning
the magic unveiling again
each night
a sky covered in dreams
I love it so
but stay away …
the cry of the wolf
in the snow
A warning to transients
skimming the top
of a landscape
— they’re never to know
(Leadville Colorado: March, 2021)
Colorado had never looked this beautiful
She is a scary, treacherous state
so many fathers have killed their whole family
but at least we have the mist a survivor said
moving slow and fast
flows through beautiful landscapes
~reaches destiny~
nature's masterpiece
envolves views beyond the sun
~beauty embraces peace~
red, blue or golden
~the long snake slithering down
along the unknown~
Away on the mountain
no fun, easy drive-
in great Colorado-
July, 'ninety-five.
Way up was so scary
with long, winding miles
that circled the mountain
and cut short our smiles.
The road was so narrow
no side rails on edge;
past times cars have fallen-
went right off the ledge!
Feet tall- fourteen thousand;
got cold by degrees.
At crest met a blizzard
that spun frigid breeze.
To gift store, ran quickly
bought warm Pikes Peak gear!
Amazed that a snowdrift
chilled summer that year!
With my furry, white companion, Luna by my side,
We venture forth in Colorado's wide-open stride.
My dog's tail wags, a joyous sight,
As we embark on our hike, under the sky's bright light.
The crisp mountain air invigorates,
As we navigate the trails with a steady gait,
Amidst Colorado's natural beauty all around,
With each step we take, a new wonder is to be found.
We explore the wild, my dog and I,
In Colorado's rugged terrain, beneath the endless sky.
Her bark echoed through valleys and hills,
A symphony that the wilderness fills.
The wild terrain, we explore with glee,
My dog's wagging tail is pure harmony.
Nature's splendor, a feast for the eyes,
As we journey under the endless skies.
Columbine in the mountains are the palest of blues;
Ours are more intense.
Gentle born ahigh and free
Tougher raised from within a fence.
Blooms match the hue of and reach for the sky,
Elsewhere its polluted, they're more likely to die.
By the highest mountain
Find the coolest breeze.
The most fragrant nectar
invites the buzziest bees.
And the flies of butter and the birds which hum,
Edwin James knew for such sweetness
they all promised to come.
In lowness a wind can blow harsh intoxication,
But closer to God may be heavenly 'proximation.
"Such color" they say, "such strength in powerful hue",
Or perhaps instead energy drawn from pain, ills or rue.
Oh Columbine speak with your pallette what say you?
Is your gift the intense or the Colorado blue?
It was the biggest blizzard in Colorado’s history.
Roads were closed.
Guests were texting their apologies.
Samantha made it, but her wedding dress did not.
Her mother had been gone for years.
She was eagerly looking toward the door for her father.
He did not arrive to give her away.
Neither did her wedding dress.
She got married in her regular clothes.
Her groom did not care. He adores whatever she has on.
Right before the traditional daddy daughter dance the door opened.
Her father came in.
She nearly dropped to her knees in gratitude.
This was what she had been praying for.
You got here Daddy!
I would not have missed it baby, he said.
He had her wedding dress.
She wore it to her reception.
In the sun it’s boiling hot;
In the shade it’s cold.
Don’t think I complain a lot
Just because I’m old.
My two brothers live here; one
Loves all the mountains’ range
Of weather, from when snow’s begun
In summertime, so strange.
The other doesn’t live so high;
It’s warmer but still crazy.
One minute there’s a clear blue sky;
Next minute, all is hazy.
The temps they toggle up and down
By varying degrees
And when you’re in a mountain town,
Just be prepared to freeze.
It‘s hard to know how one should dress
With fluctuations so.
This weather can cause mucho stress
Unless you let it go.
You should come to Colorado! She whined.
She lives there now.
Two states away.
I do not even drive to the mall
And it is less than ten minutes away.
You know I do not travel, I tell her.
You could, she whines.
I could cut out my fingernails too.
I could stab myself it the side with a steak knife.
I could smash my toes with a hammer.
I could ride my dog to work.
I could bring home eight cats.
Come on! She whines.
I do miss her.
But I had forgotten how much I despise her whining.
Without the Sun
David J Walker
I
She spent the winters swimming
Naked in the snows of Colorado
Just to show us how it’s done
Her voice returned a taciturn tone of blue
she never knew she shivered in open windows
II
The air was cleared by the 24-hour clock in the tower
Precision digital numbers connected to the sun
Clouds bowed in feigned and fauxed humility
It was something to do with the inability
to tell the truth about solar wind
III
There is a place where the rain never stops
Though the ground is cracked and dry
No need to ask why or how or where
You cannot enter you cannot go there
without the proper paperwork
IV
The last of the gardens sunflowers is holding on
As the earth tilts and the sun moves on
To the next season and the shame of
Being unable to sustain flowers named for it
the sun drops obliviously
As I hike
The winding Rattler paths of Green Mountain
It’s tempting to think
Beneath my skidding leather shoes
These marbles of red stones
Were scattered and tossed here
Just today
Laid out
While I was still eating breakfast
Though I know
The mountain is rising from iron boots
Shedding its skin
Shaking to wind
Alpines cracking its rocks like eggs
Boulders giving way if you imagine a day
When the ranges are here
No more
Rolling down
In their own tide of time
Plunging without trace
To the bottom of a future azure sea
I have a strange thought
That if a black bear foraging this early autumn
Came along and found me
Perched on the moss of this throne of stone
Writing poetry
And began to devour me
I would keep my quiet
Until his stomach was full
Lumbering home in a bonnet of sunset
Me
Set free to the universe
Two women walk by
Shatter my silence with growls and hunger
One says to the other
“Well, he’s doing a lot better.
He’s been sober one year but he told me
He really doesn’t see the point to life
Anymore.
"I mean, what do I say to that?"
I imagine
A day with plants and no plastics
No oil gas or coal dug up and sprayed from underneath
No trees removed
No bees boxed up
No smoke curled to the blue sky
No animals carved up and slaughtered
We
The Gods of Technology
Living in a universe separate and freed
From the violent capitalist divine of Nature
And from our own wild Darwinian instincts
Driving us like depressed unsatisfied madmen
To consume s**t sleep and reproduce
Consume s**t sleep and reproduce
Consume s**t sleep and reproduce
Consume s**t sleep and reproduce
To wonder from this cycle
What is the meaning?
Climbing a mountain because it is there
Yes
I imagine when each human being
Is but an artist an angel a scientist philosopher
Modern pioneers of less not more
Cuddling to Love that’s real Within.
In the twilight autumn storm
Trampoline trees still green in the wind
Roared like oceans crashing a beach
Hail bouncing on their vinyl backs
Leaves shriveling in electric flames
Whipped from the tectonic clash of clouds
No music to the thunder
Bursts like bombs
A quiet came
Hours later
Our bedroom windows
Billow
With an overnight avalanche of black cold air
We at the bottom of the mountain
Flood of breath
A divinity
Dispelling our illusion
That we are separated from God
Under the blankets
My wife floats on a raft of dreams
Faintly murmuring her pasts with gasps
Mouth warming the back of my neck
Down my spine
Lifeline
A hand migrating underneath
Pulling me along
Inhaling exhaling pulsing together
Toward inevitable change of seasons.
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