To Find an Old Path at Washoe Lake in October (2017)
1.
In Autumn walked my Labrador on shore
of Washoe Lake where Manzanita blooms
reactivate the smell of former rooms
as through the underbrush we tore and tore.
We follow horse trails off into the shrub
with dog who ran a zig-zag through the mud,
to unearth remnants left by prior flood
or spot a black bear mother with cub.
This walk is only for an hour more,
a few moments where we can stand in wind
and feel the cold earth break under our feet.
The October wind will even the score
our spirits take a step back to rescind
our pass upon the brambled lonely shore.
2.
The truth is behind a Goodyear Tire store
where dog and I will stand in backyard,
where I will usually smoke real hard,
to stare upon my shed with earthen floor.
How quickly walking on the shore is lost
as if fenced in, like us, with six foot fence.
A time to gather thoughts to recompense
to those whom I’ve done harm at any cost.
In these two worlds we find ourselves alone
with trees whose barren branches stretch to sky
with roots so thick through chill the tree survives.
We know that soon the winter will change tone,
much slower than this violent Autumn sigh,
we try to find some balance in our lives.
3.
The wind chimes on my porch will rattle with
my bones, a sturdy office building stands,
I’ll take a moment off my rugged hands,
another character inside my myth.
This “Open Window” moment shared in time.
A man who works alone in upper room,
who never takes the time to see me stare,
who works as hard as I for every dime.
I wonder if he has a hidden lake
to walk his dog in Autumn’s rapid change,
to try to find some old familiar path,
or if he has his own backyard to rake
and dream of Elk out on the open range.
Within his home away from Winter’s wrath.
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Nice work Jamie. I love to visit Washoe Lake, it is so pretty there. We often drive around the lake to find the deer or bald eagles. One day we stopped and watched a pair of bald eagles in their nest, on the east side of the lake.
Well penned and some great phrasing Jamie; would certainly like to visit as nature in all its seasonal splendor is great fodder for the poet. Cheers!
I enjoyed reading your reminiscences here, where you paint so many wonderful pictures. Thank you, Jamie!