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Posts Tagged ‘meeting the world’

Chance Meeting

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on October 16, 2026| Leave a Comment »

 
 
 
Dear Dad, I surprised a fisherman this week 
when I asked him what he was hoping to catch. 
Trout, he said, at least I am wish.
His English was halting, but our smiles connected. 
You taught me, that, Dad, how two strangers 
can easily connect on a shore or a pier.
 It takes so little, really. A small question
opens us to our common humanness and 
can lead to easy warmth. Last night I was walking
alone in the dark and noticed a small,
strange glowing in the leaves. And there
on the road, another small glow. 
Pulling out a flashlight, I discovered
the shine belonged to a black sluggish 
beetle creature, such an unlikely source of light—
a creature I would never have noticed
had it not been night. How often
do I look at someone or something 
else and fail to see their glow? 
So today in the airport, I looked for it, and
found the glow in the face of the man who looked up 
from his paper at 4:35 a.m. to toss me
a radiant grin. Saw it in the young girl 
dancing giddy circles around her grandma.
Though it was dark out, how much light 
in Concourse A did I miss, eager as I was to get 
to my gate on time? Next time, another chance
to imagine the concourse is not so different 
from the edge of a lake and our carry-on bags
not so different from tackle boxes. Who knows, 
I might catch delight in line. At least,
as my new friend said, I am wish.
 
 —Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

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Getting In the Car to Drive to Cortez

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on September 14, 2025| 4 Comments »


 
I bring with me the face of the mother I saw on the news,
the one whose shoulders shuddered as a friend
led her from the scene. I bring the ugliness
of the words I read on Facebook, black letters
on a red screen preaching rage and retaliation.
I bring the hollow cheeked boy wearing blue
greasy clothes and the smudged white body bag,
and together we drive through the canyon
where the river is swollen from last night’s rain
and the tops of cottonwoods are just beginning
to turn golden. We don’t say anything as we rise
into the valley to see mountain peaks sleeved in white.
A small bear stands on the side of the road
on his back legs, dragging acorns into his mouth
with both upper paws. A slate blue cloud
smudges the distant sky and every branch, every
rock, every bumper, every porch sparkles
in morning sun. How do we metabolize it all?
Oh body, great receptor, portal for wonder and pain.
Who am I when I step out of the car? Changed.

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