Aspens

Aspens covertly clasp

Roots underground--

Their white bodies

A rumored remedy

 

For aching heads.

Solidly they impose

Quaker morals

On the world,

 

Linking hands

Across the mountains,

Tickling God's eyes,

Calling rolling echoes

 

Into the bowl

That is Ouray.

They are one,

My Daddy said--

 

An organism.

Legend casts them

As lovers forever apart,

Tragically

 

Separate.

 

Silver-fingered branches

Belie

Their unquivering

Love.

Reviews

[Kes]

'Calling rolling Echoes' simply rolls off the tongue. What a gorgeous line!

I liked this poem. It spoke to me of reaching out... and it's a portrayla of nature's beauty and power over us.
Purity.
I love it.