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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4111 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Old Sam Wonders David Durham Old Sam wanders among the pine trees. He knows the wind is not a voice and pays attention to the sound of needles and limbs. They yield to the force of wind; it holds and doesn't hold. No rock is out of place and this simple fact brings a smile to Old Sam's face. He marks the line where the shadow of a boulder defers to the caress of the sun, watches a ground squirrel scramble up the face of that lichen stained rock. What does Old Sam remember? The sting of whiskey before the ice melts. The ache in the knees after hiking up Flattop Mountain. He imagines he remembers the taste of longing on the thighs of his bride. He forgets remembering, startled by his arousal. Late nights, when the curtain of distinctions has been rolled up, Old Sam reaches for handholds in the clouds that drift across the moon's prayer. His grip always slips and his forehead greets the side of the mountain. Thus is wisdom gained. |
