Hiking: A Series

Hiking - A Collection of Small Poems

Yellow wildflowers spring forth vibrantly atop the rocks. As I pass they explode with a surprise of butterflies.

I lost my trail amongst a mess of wildflowers and blooming shrubs. Frustrated, I looked up and met a deer who stood still on the slope. Peering at me and I at her we froze in a shock of identity. Behind her Albuquerque hummed gray and indifferent but we were silent. I returned to where I had lost myself and when I looked back she had disappeared into the mountain. Smiling, I continued on.

Exhausted, I turn onto the final path which points westward and right into the sun. Backlit like saints the junipers solemnly offer me their shadows, but I ascend beyond them to where the hill reveals a craggy plateau. My body is burning when at last I reach the apex. I perform a wobbly sun salutation and give in to the water in my pack. Settled in, I joyously listen to the breeze.

Just above me the dragonfly floats on an unseen breeze and below her I am just as free.

An articulate shadow shoots through the underbrush. The elusive serpent is a sweet but fleet sight.

My companion unveils her tanned legs and rests them upon the stones. Beyond us Albuquerque is adorned with fine shrouds of gray. The evening rains accumulate all around our hill. At the extremity of our vision the horizon slowly lifts himself to touch the sun and the sun receives him with affirmations of orange and red. Everything is beautiful.

The giants of sunshafts and virga mingle above the valley. We summit high in the west but even higher above us rises the granite belly of South Peak. For now we sit content amongst the winds, and leave the greater peak for later days. Perhaps when pines are in our minds.

The orange eye of the bird escorts me past her bush with a ceaseless gaze.

High above me the towering pillar is draped in power lines. Within it a lone lizard darts into a deep crack. An interesting home.