Surrounded by the snow-covered Sawtooths
that scrape the blue horizon,
their bone-white granite forced skyward
eons ago by collisions of continental shift,
she sports a broad-brimmed hat against the relentless
Idaho sun, carries a 45-pound backpack,
is outfitted in shorts, T-shirt, hiking boots--
right leg thrust forward, left leg supported
by her below-the-knee prosthesis.
I recall the times she couldn't walk--
but, damn it all, that was another era--now
she hikes for days in this altitude of jagged beauty,
carries her own provisions, ready for any weather.
Previously published in the North Carolina Poetry Society's
"Award Winning Poems, 2000"
Used with the permission of the Poet.
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