Friday, July 28, 2017


I-90 - Eastern Montana - 1994
A great load of hay - that was a lucky sign.
Our trip there was wonderful.

"Just a long, flat highway with nothing at stake between us"

“East or West, home is best.” I’ve remembered that line since I was child. It is one of the maxims the nuns in school would bestow on us every once in a while. I came upon this wonderful poem in June at The Writer’s Almanac. The poem spoke to me of two places I love but have never lived in. I’ve been to Vermont, close to my upstate New York home, more times that I could ever count. I’ve been to Montana, home of one of my very special people, only once. Both the green, treed Vermont and the golden brown, vast Big Sky openness of Montana speak to me of home – I could happily live in either place. Maybe in my next life…

I titled this one "Vermont Cow"

"spring's sky-blue gown"

You can take Vermont,
the edge of the woods in tears
even with spring’s sky-blue gown
as you prowl through those trees
bird whistle on a lanyard and compass
tucked in your camouflage pants.
I want Montana for myself,
some little-known hot spring,
glimpse of wild horses running,
notebooks, novels, no plans
as the sky rolls out its
dazzling welcome mat.
Just a long flat highway with nothing
at stake between us.
Someday we’ll signal one another—
you with the call of a partridge,
me with the song of a meadowlark.

No comments:

Post a Comment