Avalanche Lilies

Avalanche Lilies

At breakfast, Earth aimlessly sloshes milk against

the ocean’s rim, inundating cities.

When I speak to her  – of suffering and indifference –

she slips from her chair goes outside to play without

a backward glance.  

I pray for permission to be excused.

                                    *

Driving the Yakima Canyon

My finger tip caresses her

hill’s scared brown shoulders

while she sleeps.   

I don’t think my touch will awaken her. 

She’s slept through glaciers on a

Scabland bench.  She doesn’t

Expect or give compassion. 

I love and hate how little she needs me.

Later, I drive by the place where the bank

gave way boulders fell

taking everyone underground.

I look into the bewildered eyes

Of a child searching the sleeve

of his father’s jacket for an

amputated arm.

                                    *

She never forgets, relents,

regrets, repents. But in her

mountain meadows

the snow blind are healed by

Avalanche Lilies

LFM