Peak & Prairie

Rocky Mountain Chapter's
Online Newsletter
October / November 1999

Reflections

Peak & Prairie Poetry Page

Submissions to Vincent Pitturo : vinhol@earthlink.net 

Transition

This place should look familiar,
I have walked this path before.
The Pasque flowers should be behind 
That patch of tall grass, next to that
Fallen tree, just left of the mossy rock.

The Indian Paint Brush should
Grow in the glade there, between
The quaking, now yellowing Aspens.
Where are the tender wild Strawberrys?
They should bloom there, in that low place.

The Blue bells and daisies are missing.
Miniature acorns litter the hillside,
Under the scrub oak, turning brick.
Tuft-eared squirrels scamper ahead.
Rose hips bend branches beside the trail.

The sun is low in the sky today.
Shadows mottle the hillsides.
It should be bright and hot at three o’clock.
A chill breeze sends a flurry of leaves
Across the trail, a hundred yards ahead of us.

My feet know the turnings.
The up hills and down hills assure me,
As do piles of boulders still shaped like turtles.
Three majestic sisters tower to the right.
The mountains don’t change, the seasons do.

By: Maggie Zubrin

So Falling at 2 AM in the City

on the inside window ledge
a haggard man enveloped himself
arms to legs . . . head to knees

not the first shower
nor the last of the darkened months
inches on the Douglas Firs, Spruces, Pines, and
other now white humps outside the window

no mountain within grasp or sight from window ledge
nothing but white night horizon
the city stopped
roads abandoned
electricity not
all slept under warm comforters

abundance in the white
abundance in the solitude
abundance in the breath
up and down . . . quiet

in unison, all breathed
only snow valleys and white trees in sight
that gentle night


sometimes I wonder why they build cities


Alex Ross
Viewpoint Editor
Tulane University Hullabaloo

October 1999 Online Newsletter - Peak & Prairie Home Page - Rocky Mountain Chapter Home Page