(Photo credit: www.hikingthesmokys.blogspot.com)Today is my husband's birthday. We have been married 41 years, which is hard to believe. I wrote this poem shortly after we were married. I think it's a perfect Easter poem, as well as a birthday celebration.
For Jim On Siler's Bald
Dizzy with you on the edge,
after what seemed like hours of climbing
toward sunlight, I stepped
back and studied a hawk floating
over the valley like a kite
somebody let go of. Why speak
of life changing its seasons
again? How the hardwoods
bore leaves into view or
the bears brushed off sleep
like a cobweb to follow the light
growing long on the leafmold
where earthworms fished,
busy as fingers? That happened
as always. But wind?
I remember the hawk riding
on it to nowhere I knew
when we lay down in thin air
to sleep with the rest of the creatures
the earth was about to awaken.
"For Jim On Siler's Bald" appeared in The Girl In the Midst of the Harvest (Texas Tech University Press, 1986).
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