Had a chance to hike in the Paint Mines in Colorado on the prairie. I usually hike in the mountains and don’t like to travel east to where the land is flat and the grass resembles the shaggy fur of some beast, but I enjoyed this area with its fingers of hardened clay. Truly alien in certain way like I was suddenly on the red planet. Reminded me of Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles.
February When the Maiden Goes Away
She rides the bear’s back, whose fur
smells musky as her grandfather’s beard,
feels warm as grandmother’s calico embrace.
The bear chuffs as it runs. Its claws,
long as bent roof beam nails,
splay out over the rimed white dunes.
They travel over the winter-scape,
lonely and lunar, with craters and minute
ice particles stinging her cheeks.
She looks up into the sky.
The clouds are puzzle pieces
she will someday fit together.
Lucy Simpson, 1/2012, revised 2-22-2013