WRITING IN EL PORVENIER CANYON

WRITING IN EL PORVENIER CANYON

The cliff yawns,

a great stone giant

mouth dug-out, hollowed by the

spring melts' filling

the river

undercutting the banks

dislodging loose sections.

Close your eyes.

The water is white

and its sound

lashes and whispers

its chorus, ever-changing and

changeless.

A cold wind whips

into the valley

tossing your hair and trying

to dislodge you from

your perch above the rapids.

The sun slips

around the edge of a cloud

to rest on this large rock

and you take one more sip this warm

morning coffee and pick up the pen.

An eagle is dragging his shadow

across the trees

toward your lap

as you place the first line on the

page.