WINTER, WALKING

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The dog’s been dead eleven years,
but when I reach this tree
and call to her, she comes
and walks with me.

And all the rest–
the grazing cows, the sheep.
Men cut down the giant pines
and stop to wipe away the sweat.
Oxen drag stumps into rows.

Here, the People pass
following the deer.
They make their fires,
tell their tales
and scatter chips and bones.

And here, a frozen tundra
where mammoths graze;
a whale-swimmed sea
where my garden sleeps
in deep lake-bottom clay.

I walk this road beneath
a thickness of blue ice.
Since time and space cohere,
the continents collide
and mountains rise and wear away.

Here be giant cats and sloths,
and great club mosses rise
above the path I make.
Here my snowshoes pack
an eternity of snow.

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2 comments on “WINTER, WALKING

  1. erieffel says:

    I just love this one, Mary. Especially the whale-swimmed sea. I will share it with my budding geologist.

    • Thanks, Emily. It was l-o-n-g in the crafting!

      How are you folks wintering? I’m about to put in my seed order.

      We’ll build our house and chop our wood and make our garden grow.

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