Yes, many miles today:
Over the Malad Summit,
Through Marsh Valley,
Along the Portneuf to Pocatello,
From there up the Snake to Market Lake
Then west through the barrens out toward Salmon--
But we know it well--all seasons,many years.

Jean's funeral was appropriate--
Though nearly seventy is young now,
But her family was good--
A real "Church occasion,"
With that certainty
That this isn't the end--
"Cousins" too endures beyond just time.

And the trip home by way of Roberts--
Uncle Grant and Aunt Helen--
Her relatives, not mine, but also bound--
Yes, he did speak to me,
But I had been out to Kilgore,
Geography is so often
One of the only constants of age.

Then back south over Red Rock
Through the North of Cache Valley--
"The spirits" always speak there,
And whether the "Ancient Ones,"
The catastrophic earth,
Or the uninhabited bleakness--
Being there is feeling there.

And from Preston on toward home
(Long since now a camp route)
And with the convenience of four-lane,
No need to go westward at Franklin--
And tonight, neither fog nor snow,
Only Winter's impending overcast
Blotting out the luster of a Blue Moon.

12/31/2009

Author's Note: Impressions of a funeral journey.

Posted on 01/01/2010
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes