In southwestern Utah’s canyons,
Where the vegetation is spare,
You can see the Earth is crumbling
Everywhere. Intermediate
Stages between sand and mountain,
Mud and million-year cliff strata
Are elsewhere obscured by dirt, trees,
And buildings growing over them—
The truck-sized boulders, house-sized stones
Lying around on broken mounds
That in these parts just sit there, bare,
Motionless for hundreds of years.
On the canyon roads, the small slides
Of fist-sized, skull-sized rocks aren’t rare,
While their parent fractures hover
Over them, not at all hidden,
Heaps of them, broken as bread crumbs,
Just so still you don’t notice them
Except that one day, that one year,
When some tourists or the neighbors
You never got to know are crushed
Driving, hiking, sitting at home
Watching a holiday program
As a little more Earth lets go.
Monday, September 4, 2023
The Crushed House in Rockville
Labels:
4 Sep 23
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.