Three Birthday Wishes, Belated or Early, for Theresa 59, Greer 60, and for Wendy

Semo La

Half of Earth's atmosphere lies

Below the wheels of the bus

Crawling up the dirt-track pass.

Prayer flags flutter in ruins

Of color at the summit,

Snow-bound most of the summer.

The Tibetan yak reached here

A few thousand years ago,

But snow leopards got here first.

Who knows which of these will leave

Slowest-fading legacies,

When we're all young strangers here?

There is no roof of the world,

Only angels ascending.

Entirely Recent Echo

It's all new. Who in the west

Has ever heard of this truth?

The walls of Grand Canyon once

Carried flash-flood detritus

Near high as the petroglyphs

And the dessicated souls

Waiting to be lifted free

In my imagination.

I am not a surveyor,

But I can feel the water

Carving the old world under

And away from my clay feet.

We're all young here, and we howl,

Wolves and infants, small wonder.

Dear Wendy,

Sarah told me I should compose a poem

For your 70th birthday. I thought

It might be an interesting project,

If only because, except where your home,

Local artists, or guests are involved, you're

A no-nonsense type of woman. You won't

Be happy with flouncy rhymes or abstract

Imagery intended to impress dour,

Actual February with a sidelong

Glance at the meaning of snowy objects

Sitting mute as the cat at your window,

In craving out, out craving inside. Strong

Enjambment solves half the problem, but you

Are a whole-solution girl. Poems love you.