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Sonnets From Other Lives: Trail Notes

first there is a raven’s wooden plonk
followed by the rattle of a crow.
spring has turned the trail into a swamp
& the northern slopes still hold swatches of snow—
frozen slush dark stained by needle mulch
that drip downslope swelling angel creek
into cacophony in the dark gulch
below. the trail’s determined oblique
rises upridge toward a mountain col
& the alpine fairyland of peaks
above the forest’s conifer cathedrals.
a field of talus—switchbacks & we rise
to meet in intersection with the sky.