The Lost Boy
by
William Tremblay

Across the Poudre river bridge
stands a stone monument to a lost boy.
Carved words fix the mystery. Did
he wander off, or was he carried off
by tooth or talon? Families, friends,
searched the mountainside calling his
name. The weather turned. Sleet, wind,
snow in slants across the ponderosas.
He blacked out under the canyon's
Milky Way. I hear his cries in
echoing arroyos. Though his bones
mouldered in cold drizzle he comes
crashing through wild plum thickets
clutching at my shirt, asking where I was
in his sagebrush hours. Through his
ripped jacket a flash of bone. I dare not
touch his skeletal shoulder. He's forgotten
how to be alive. The climb is no relief,
his weight dogs my knees. Breezes
sough through purple yarrow aspen groves,
dry waterfalls. I reach the cloud meadows,
hairpin switchbacks until Mount
Greyrock juts its granite forehead into
one hard thought: what remains unfinished
in the soul keeps doubling back
until earth and sky are balanced aches
like the cliff swallow's swift flight.

Copyright (c) 2002, 2003, by William Tremblay.
Used with the author's permission.
Vintage Colorado Poetry marks its fourth anniversary with a contemporary poem of the wild, "The Lost Boy" by William Tremblay.

First published in LUNA, a literary journal, "The Lost Boy" by William Tremblay was reprinted in The Best American Poetry 2003.

Broadside (16" x 8") available from
Bonfire Press.

A native of Massachusetts, William Tremblay lives in Fort Collins and has taught at Colorado State University since 1971.
Vintage Colorado Poetry
Poem of the Month
October 2007
James B. Hemesath, Editor
Vintage Colorado Poetry
jimhemesath@comcast.net

Copyright (c) 2003-2007, Vintage Colorado Poetry
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