by Cheryl Loetscher

We buried you in a snow like this
30 years ago, after a storm had swallowed
canyon roads and cedar breaks. We mixed
your ash with the skim of the land
and followed the arc of Castor, our tears
fracturing the Spring landscape into fanned
shards of color. We planted your dust
in an ochre hollow carved by the roots
of a scarred ponderosa. Woodfrogs
just beginning to thaw, pulsed at F above
middle C like dying stars while we poured
your life back into earth’s husk, marking
your grave with pipestone bowls
and sweet bark tea for the journey.


-  copyrightCheryl Loetscher, Littleton CO