In the year of fire and fear

when even the air has stopped breathing

I have come to see the woods again

to kneel beneath her waters, joined

where the main creek and her sister join

here there is dark spruce, tangled willow, darting minnow,

and refuge

again to ask

all the questions

but the wild ones say what they have always said

sweep of wind

rippling water

clatter of rockfall

silent deadfall

osprey wing on water

camp smoke half-remembered

trailhead half-departed




Read. Write. Love the wilderness.

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Rick Chastain

Rick Chastain

Read. Write. Love the wilderness.

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