Poem of the Week
April 11, 2005
Memory quick-trips me backward
to the seventies and my brothers
before the prison in Canon City stole their hearts
We hauled our band gear up that ol' mountain
carried amplifiers, guitars, drums, and generators
down into the Sun Circle
where we established ourselves
on that side-o-the-mountain open stage
I drank Seagram's Seven
howled my lyrics and played my harmonica
into the mountain air and white cloud sky
Boulder lay behind me
a sheer backdrop to a young man on the edge
of time and certainly unaware
of the audacity of his behavior
No permits, no appointments
just music and the poor-boy Sterner brothers
doin' that thing they used to do
A group of Jewish People appeared later
Permit in hand, they advised us
they had reserved this wondrous place
for a very special wedding observance
We played a couple of our songs for 'em
while they performed a precise and circular tribal dance
They applauded our efforts and fed us
sent us back smiling to our West Denver homes
A smile comes to me slowly
like Harry Chapin said, "It was a sad smile, just the same"
I light my second cigar of the day
feet planted on each side o' the ol' dragon
arms resting on her handlebar wings
A sparrow lands on my mirror
gives me a wink and flits away
I wonder its lineage
generations of mountain life past
Did its forbearers hear the poor boys' noise
witness a certain binding of troth
I swear her stones are the same
each pine needle and chittering chipmunk
Sons born since have carried my music
into a new age
It is theirs now and far different somehow
I remain unchanged like the face of Flagstaff
She knows what I might only guess
Time is on her side
Cigar butt clenched tightly 'tween my teeth
I give the ol' War Horse a couple o' kicks
She coughs and sputters to life
I tickle her throttle, glory in her growl and roar
A dust devil dervish giggles from the path
rises and kisses me on the cheek
how, the mountain, she speaks
--Tom "WordWulf" SternerHowe
Copyright (c) 2005,
by Tom "WordWulf" SternerHowe.
Used with the author's permission.
Lines 1-63
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