Three Attempts

by Bruce Holsapple

Walked a scrawny trail thru
the grass & trees east
from Carizzozo Canyon
searching for Grapevine Spring
a beguiling name, given
the scant rainfall here —
& to learn why that watershed
pours north rather than west,
like related dry washes do

As I hiked the brush deepened
fought a way out, twigs snapping}
my face, sweat in my eyes
stumble forward, gain ground,
but it’s a whole lot of work
to look where it is
you’re headed

or for that matter
where you’ve been —

spot the lighter green
of cottonwoods, so there’s the spring
no grapevines to be seen
scuffle about, hoping to strike
a trail that goes
up & thru the mountains
the possibilities of self–definition renewed

*
Hillsides, rock outcrop, cactus
who knows what you’ll see
atop this particular rise
(probably another peak to climb
just out of view — )
a landscape inhabited
“one step at a time”
there’s always further to go
one more chore

Why’d it take me this long
to figure that? O because youth
has no obligations
save what’s imposed
no inborn need to carry thru
There’s what you get away with
then get carried away with

*
Or stumbling up a rocky mountainside
almost ankle deep in stone, tufts of grass
still brown, although the rainy season’s started
sky overcast, the temperature
a dry 80 degrees
not easy or beautiful
but a heightened state for sure!
follow a wayward arroyo
see where the elk & deer go
how the trees spread
depending on drainage
feel the depth, wherever it lets you in
Wind swirling thru here a thousand years
find myself riveted
tracing the changes back
discover the flow of the land
the watershed & view