Kootenai Canyon
Lightning strike. All summer, sleeping dragon
in the beetle-killed pines, the smoke of its breath
our breath. Awakened, roaring, by September wind:
two mountains, black and ash.
"The poem is the cry of its occasion"
Kootenai Canyon
Lightning strike. All summer, sleeping dragon
in the beetle-killed pines, the smoke of its breath
our breath. Awakened, roaring, by September wind:
two mountains, black and ash.