Ahtanum Ridge

AHTANUM RIDGE
Scott R. Dorr

You lie like dead soldiers
Of a defeated army
The ribs and gullies of your bodies
Growing brown after the early spring green

The wind rushes from you
Like the last breath gasped in battle
The mist sets upon you
Like a tombstone unreadable due to time
Or distance

Yellow flowers grow over the secretes
Hidden in your brown skin
And time, the undertaker, watches
The sun sweep toward you each
Morning

The skirmishes are long gone fought
Strong rocks or remembrance support
The legends that tell of you and the killing
Of man against man

Your ribs continue to shrink
But the power of your shoulders
Still hold the weight of the horizon
And captures the chill of the wind
For you to throw back upon us