Tag Archives: hike

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gristle for my mill

I think
you are my muse

another muse
in a series

like the men
who have young girls
in series
muses

I think
you are gristle
for my mill

I will grind your bones
to poetry

you don’t like my poems
I don’t care

hopefully you won’t read them
your bones
ground

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Neither am I

you are so beautiful
I love you so much
and I see you

so clearly

I look at you
I wish
you could see me

you see the darkness
the bear
you carry with you
and project
on me

you hold the bear
at a distance
you see it
all the time
in other people

when the bear comes
I hold open my arms
and welcome it
and I don’t yell

the bear roars
with dripping teeth
tries to terrify me

and I reach for it

me too
I say
come meet
my monsters

all my monsters
anger fear grief
shame
come out

the bear
stares at them

they hold out
their arms

the bear bows
his head
and we surround him
and welcome him
and love him

the bear cries

because you don’t love him

the bear cries
and cries and cries

we hold the bear
and cuddle him
and feed him
and try to warm him
and do the best we can

but we are not you

you come towards me
seeing the bear
fortified by my monsters
you attack

and my monsters hide
and hide your bear

and you stand
sword ready
to split us apart

confused
where is the bear?

you are sure
you see a bear
but it is gone
and I am a little girl

the naked sword is raised
the gun is loaded
you and weapons ready

no bear

you lower the gun
the sword
and make excuses
and leave

and the bear
hugs us all
thanks us

as you leave
the bear walks faster
nearly a shambling run
and dissolves into you

we wave
my monsters and I
we wave goodbye again
send love
to you and your bear

Over the Rhine: All of My Favorite People are Broken, credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/31683793@N07/collections/72157628647320299/

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: myopic.

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bird view

I took this from up on the bluff at Fort Worden on December 22, 2021. A grey and cloudy day, but I think it is still beautiful, the fort and the town and the sound laid out.

There is a hike that one can take. It seems to end in a clearing. After my first decade here I learn that one can walk out the ridge. At the sketchy dangerous end of the ridge, if it is clear enough, we are looking down at the Quimper Peninsula, Marrowstone Island, Indian Island, Port Townsend Bay, and the Cascade Mountains across the Salish Sea. It is an amazing view. It is a 2 mile hike, mostly up, and you have to drive up a fire road first. Forget about cell service up there. It is gorgeous.

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wear and tear

B and I have been walking the beaches a lot since we returned from our trips in January.

We are noticing how much the beach changes daily. The high winter tides wash sand out and back in. Some days the beach is covered with pebbles and some days it is smooth sand. The boulders move and the cliffs do too.

With the heavy rains this year, sections of cliff collapse. We have both edged closer to the water when we see sections of sand and clay that have fallen: some are as large as a car or larger. We would not survive if that fell on us.

Trees hang on for as long as they can, but they fall too.

We also see root systems exposed when a section of the cliff falls and know that those trees are struggling to survive.

We are debilitated by the length of the pandemic, but going out walking every day, watching birds and trees and the beach change, the eagles flirting, the seals peering out of the water, this renews me. I hope you have a place to walk.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: debilitating.