... tucked into a shoulder of the Rockies / we slept in our car among Ponderosa pines
... fell asleep listening to the river
... a night so close you could almost touch the stars ....... I think we were happy then
My reading of this poem on public radio: https://beta.prx.org/stories/141539
That should last forever.
ReplyDeleteIt should, but sometimes doesn't ... thanks, Montucky.
DeleteSomething similar to this has happened to me more than a few times. One that I remember in particular, Wyoming, Flaming Gorge, coyotes howling, we slept outside. I wonder what happened to her. So many years ago.
ReplyDeleteThis poem originally included the locale, "somewhere outside Durango, Colorado," but I had to let it go in favor of the cadence. :)
DeleteWyoming is a beautiful state. I still remember the Bighorn Mountains.
Lovely. You do pare these down so effectively. In this case the last phrase evokes a whole new world of meaning.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Nancy.
DeleteWhen I read this one I immediately thought it suggested a good short story. The I realized: that's what makes it a good poem.
ReplyDeleteVery evocative. Bravo.
The short story is probably by my favorite literary genre, right after poetry ... :) Thanks so much, Bill.
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