The Black Canyon of the Gunnison
the wind song of the canyon…
The Gunnison River is still doing its work,
the river never looks up…
it inspired my new nature poem
Black Canyon of the Gunnison
We tramp ascending trails,
scant footsteps from the canyon rim,
we look ahead and up,
no need for looking down.
The canyon stares at us
with no flutter of interest,
no ripple of welcome.
The canyon needs no rim walkers
to mark the edge of sky,
it needs no halfling voice
to make a vagrant echo
chasing the puny river
that carves a new bottom each day.
We keep to the high line
of the trampled scuffs of booted feet,
the wizened pine scrub reaches out to us,
not close enough to touch,
but near enough to drop
the untouched cones that mark the season.
We face the nearing sky,
we step round to a new patch of wood,
a turn that mutes the wind song of the canyon,
and we nearly forget
that we are high above that wild width,
scant steps from that vast space.
January 9, 2018
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2018 All rights reserved.
Book review: The Myths of Tet
How people get killed by lies…
by Edwin E. Moïse
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As with another eye: Poems of exactitude with 55 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
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