Finding New Home on the Mountain

Look mom, a sunflower!

Dirt mapped the child's face

Making trails to her smile 

A balsam root flower

Growing from her fist

Dark clouds claimed the valley below

The girl's mom, frowning the child's 

Flower to the ground, "a storm is coming" 

A sharp cold breeze turning them around.

I'm breathing my legs up the mountain, 

Running like the growing wind 

Is blowing through me, 

Headed to the mountaintop

When I pass a small girl and her mom, 

Headed to the safety of the valley. 

They look through me: 

I'm the breeze afterall, 

Blowing up the trail, invisible and strong.

The storm reaches the peak 

We crash, a wave cresting 

Sweeping me down Patterson mountain 

The storm paints its portrait on the trail

Each raindrop meeting a growing river:

Transformed into a larger picture of itself

My legs like the rain meet the ground,

Faster and faster and suddenly

I'm the balsam flower, discarded, propelled by the strong wind

Swept free by the river

Caught in the storm

Finding new home on the mountain

 

Desert Cottontail Tries to Die

I watched the sky die slowly

Driving on a road with no speed limit

And for me, no destination

Leaving it to the dark road to navigate

My car at 90 mph.

The desert's stars and my headlights

Lighting up the path, 

Lighting up a Cottontail 

Making his wild dash for my wheels.

The Cottontail tried his best

To get hit by my car

As I helplessly watched him

Blinded by indecision

Running first out, then back

Then out again.

Sia's voice singing "Numb"

On the car's shuffle play, 

I was just off the phone:

I'd broken up a relationship 

That had only just began,

Hoping it's quick death 

Meant less pain.

The Cottontail was like a wave

In an ocean's storm tossed back and forth

Of his own accord

Just as suddenly as he appeared,

He found a calm shore:

A sagebrush.

In the middle of the desert 

A movie theater beckoned, 

I'm near Vegas afterall, but still

It's presence, a wave of deja vu

That swept me inside.

Inside the dark theater, I'm the only viewer

I want to keep watching the movie

 Yet, I'm sure I've seen it before.

I have more driving to do tonight

I quickly leave.

Back on the road, 

Sagebrush streaming past

An ocean of grey

Remembering the Cottontail's dance

I can't help but wonder

How it survived

How to Close Your Heart

The desk was covered in papers

As though snow was falling 

Piling up to the windows.

The computer screen glowed: 

A cabin with a fire warming it.

Looking into the office,

I could see him staring 

At the screen's glow.

I imagined him wishing 

He could go inside

And warm up.

I was in a carnival of mirrors,

Looking in that office

My experience being reflected:

A drawing that should be in 3D

Lifelessly one dimensional.

Still, he sat and stared at the screen

Papers, boxes, to do lists

Snow, piling up all around

The computer glowing 

Like a winter mirage.

The whiteout making it impossible

To see where the fire burned

While I died a slow, cold death

Beneath the cabin's window

Unable to get in.

Trail Runners & Their Tattoos

After getting two trail running inspired tattoos this year, I wondered, how many trail runners have tattoos? I have noticed a lot of tattoos in the yoga studio, are they also on the trail? Turns out, yes they sure are! To read more about Trail Runners & Tattoos, an article I wrote for Trail Runner Magazine, and to see a gallery of photos visit these links:

Trail Runners and Their Tattoos
Gallery of Photos

James Piper

Catra Corbett

Jeff Barbier

Maria Dalzot

Katie DeSplinter

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