Amidst Tricksters

 

On geyser time, we rise throughout the night with Old Faithful—chilled to the marrow, despite layers and down bags and molten rock a mere three miles below our tent. Perhaps it’s just the airborne moisture, finally cooling and settling down for the night. Or perhaps it’s the ghosts of Chief Joseph and his kin, keening for their long-lost home.

 

rising
from the caldera
warbling wisps
of coyote chorus
spirit us away


12 Responses

  1. Janice Says:

    Takes me right to Yellowstone, and to deep sorrows of lands lost. Very rich. Well done.

  2. magyar Says:

    I shiver at the rumble.

  3. magyar Says:

    .

  4. magyar Says:

    input error.

  5. snakypoet Says:

    Gorgeous writing!

  6. Vijay joshi Says:

    This wonderful narrative rekindled surreal memories of our last visit.

  7. Barbara A. Taylor Says:

    beautiful!

  8. Karen O'Leary Says:

    Dear Autumn,

    Thank you for sharing this artistic and insightful haibun. I really like the cultural perspective. Congratulations on your publication.

    Best wishes with your writing endeavors.

    Blessings,
    Karen

  9. seaviewwarrenpoint Says:

    Beautiful.

  10. Peggy French Says:

    Really enjoyed your work, thanks for sharing it with us.

  11. janewilliams Says:

    Richly textured, very evocative.

  12. Autumn Says:

    Many to thanks to all of you for reading my work and for your kind words; I am grateful to have such good company along on this poetry journey!

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