Posts Tagged ‘directions’


There are no direct flights
from anywhere to here.
Say you make it to Denver.
Say there is a car. Then the long road
though it’s only four turns.
First at the edge where the orchards
meet the layers of desolation, barren, striated and high.
Next at the intersection of depression
and loneliness, where an old
wooden sign with faded red paint announces
that there were once Friday night drag races here.
Turn right at the stoplight of indecision
where it looks uphill no matter which way you go.
It is. If it is summer, there will be lupine,
purple, and golden mules ears in the alpine meadows,
though the peaks will still be secluded in snow.
And if it is winter, there will be tracks
from the elk herds trailing whitely into the spruce.
Pass the turn off toward distraction.
Pass the cliff that was formed around the same time
the dinosaurs went extinct, and then turn left at the drive
just past the ponderosa, how much taller that tree
must be now. There will still be a river waiting for you,
perhaps even a lifetime.

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