From a Viewpoint Halfway up the Telegraph Canyon Fire Trail, I Look Across To The Golden Gate

After a week, the clouds have lifted
the solstice sun approaches its northern limit
again I walk up the steep pebbly path
to where I can look across to the Golden Gate
with a hint beyond it of the outward islands

in the shadow of Mount Tam one ferry leaves
a tiny white trail on its way to Larkspur
another churns out of Oakland
three million people no meaningful sound
the whole bay glitters in its majesty

so much bright sunlight and nothing is clear
no hint of the tiny events we will read about
in tomorrow’s Chronicle
nor what that couple on the trail below me
are arguing about into their cell phones

nor in what hillside house some quiet mother
tends her war-disordered adult son
nor in what greasewood bush a hummingbird
with beak uplifted
sits on her tiny eggs

nor here heart still faintly pounding
what calm is bearing down
on this self I begin to know now
after eighty inconclusive years
I will never know

From: Tilting Point, Word Palace Press, 2012.

Posted: Mon 21 Mar, 2016