Arts + Scene » Poetry

First tastes of Humboldt



Were the endless reigns
Of chainsaws lumbering,

While bobbing along

Crystal clear waters
In the Trinity River,

Away from home.

I was warned of
The pending rains

And endless clouds,

But could only smell
Essence of conifers

In the healing waters.

The tastes of freedom
Dwarfed my senses

Need for pleasure,

Where beauty determined
What I thought essential

Would just float on by...

Kirk Gothier


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