Poetry Post-A-Thon: Spectators

This one was originally published in Alaska Women Speak

Spectators

The cracked windshield, blotted with rain,

streaked with each wiper blade pass, as

we wasted time with a drive past the Chugach

Mountains, thick with gray cloud afros,

adorning each peak.

 

Miles of guard rail sheltered

our route from the swollen Eagle River just feet away

until the gray broke for a brief patch of fireweed

and a moose cow and calf,

their red-brown fur

nestled against the magenta petals

as they waited along the roadside:

spectators to our rainy day parade.

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