Monday, February 19, 2018


as if in amber

a wolf print in bronze
sits in a stand in our Great Room,

it’s from a wolf we’ve watched,
from a time when she crossed Pebble Creek, 
Lamar Valley, Yellowstone,
and left a track to be
found, preserved, presented,
such a small piece of her world
but enough for me to feel I touch her life,
and to feel undone with the wrenching power
of my leap into her step,

Anasazi hand prints on a wall
help me imagine the person 
of flesh and blood and dreams
who stood here and left a mark to endure,

stone tools particularly draw me
to cross centuries, millennia, chasms,
I reach to imagine how he held the hand-axe,
why he was here for a time,
how he lost his tool,

so much of who we are goes away in time
like leaves in the wind,

when amber randomly holds,
I want to notice 
and appreciate the leaf caught.

by Henry H. Walker
February 13, ‘18

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