The hot days linger into night.
Water comes by thunderstorm.
My precious free days I seek cool water.
Mountain streams. Clear glacial ponds. Oceans.
I follow the cascading streams up mountains.
I live on boletes and watercress.
I find a valley where every pool is sweet and clear.
I look for stones round enough to roll a thousand miles.
I bring them to the river and drop them in.
I bless them so they may join the ocean.
July 14, 2007
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It’s been fun catching up with your recent posts. No kidding? You’re headed back to Colorado? I hope you’ll post about the transition when it comes. It certainly is a beautiful state. My hubby grew up in Niwot.
The poem is lovely. One has to ask if indeed you’ve eaten wild boletes? Yummmy.
Comment by Cathy Wilson — July 18, 2007 @ 2:45 pm
Thank you. I will definately keep the blog posted on my progress. I haven’t eaten wild boletes since my wife gave me the ultimatim that I never eat wild mushrooms… I guess its my escape to imagine that I’m off in the mountains living on them.
Comment by tito — July 18, 2007 @ 8:16 pm