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.
J.L. Smith 