A Road in the Mountains by Charles Fishman

For My Daughters I was walking up a road where shallow streams pulsed Small fierce waterfalls cut through choking leaves In the fields glimpsed through winter's trees, not a house__not a gathered shock of wheat The sky stretched its gray cloth horizon to horizon Not a bird lit on a branch__nothing living cried out I seemed alone in the world and rushed forward on the boat of my energy I was sailing a dark river spangled by floating stars I saw myself walking and knew the streams that surged by me were the earth's perishing billions Generations hurried past — sparks extinguished in an ocean — but I was free: in you, I would continue.

PREVIOUS TABLE OF CONTENTS NEXT Biography

Copyright © 2024 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors. No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.