Barely a road at all
that climb over Shafer Summit
then cutting off the Boise Ridge Road
and on down the back side
over washouts and rocks
on the switchbacks. Sometimes feathering
the brakes, but the grade
pretty good for coasting.
Then a headlong neck snapping
run barely under control
past deer, cats, and horses
to the bridge at Grimes Creek
among tailings and second growth pine.
Grimes Creek’s mostly suckers now
and a few just planted rainbows,
limp and frightened, maybe never was
much more. Sunset strings out
shadows and the valley darkens
as we drift over dusty gravel,
uncertain of where we belong.
This is the land under moonlight
emerging from memory. This is not
the way to anywhere. But our way.
Somehow, our way.