Trailhead

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Trailhead

Past crowds of people taking pictures with i-phones
And I-pads, shoulder to shoulder on the boardwalk
Watching great travertine cliffs steam and sputter
Sending ribbons of life spilling out against a backdrop
Of gray clouds and dead struggling trees…
We find the trailhead
Barely marked and completely blocked
By a dozen elk staking claim to their lunch

Past crowds of people taking pictures with iphones
And Ipads, shoulder to shoulder, dangerously close
Vying for you tube or an Instagram selfie,
Eyeing them all with stealth and suspicion,
The elk lower their heads to resume grazing…
In the afternoon sun
When they disperse indiscreetly
We cross the creek and leave the others behind

Hiking up the hill, cool winds wandering through
Wildflowers yellow and blue, prairire unfolding
Like a mystery without clues, horizon unbroken
By signs of cars, people, and sounds, save
Whispering aspen, singing birds,
And the pitch of the mountain in the distance
Beckoning us to sit down on a rock and imagine
All that was, all that is, and all that can be.

About Doug Hoekstra

Father, wordsmith, musician, creative.
This entry was posted in 2014, Jude Stories, Life, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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