Ridge

My poem, Ridge, is up at Sheila-Na-Gig online. Here is the poem:

Ridge

August rains
have left the ground
green and boggy.

This evening
a cool mist rises
to hug the ridge

like filings
in a force field.
Wouldn’t you like

to hold someone
so easily?
Nature is unaware

of its beauty—
tricks of light
and season

leave it
unperturbed.
The ridge

and I are old
companions—
a singular feature,

it dominates
my view from any
vantage.

I often wonder
about the view
from the ridge,

but citybred,
I am too tied
to pavement

to try the climb.
Yet, I imagine myself
among the explorers

of an earlier age.
Leather-clad
and booted

we work our way
inland from a Susquehanna
landing—muskets

against lion and bear,
we muscle our way
to the ridge-top

and find a valley
so inviting
we envision a settlement

right here—
here
where I sit rocking.

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