Poem of the Week

High Sierra Moment

The Tohee
meanders a meadow
home in its grasses
to purple perstemmen,
blue lupin, orange puccoon,
yellow-eyed daisies
mirrors at its wide bend
gray granite mountains,
tamed by distance
but exacting rigor
for every step higher
every broader view
I watch
the mountain water flow—
so incredibly clear,
lucid almost,
as conscious
as purpose grasped,
as transparent
as every brown, beige, taupe, copper, ivory
pebble in its deep
slip silently
inexorably on
my heart stays put
at the foot bridge
lifts with a breeze
to push upstream yet,
spirit as unbounded
as the whole