Friday, September 22, 2006

Porcupine Hills

Sharp razorback of the last ridge
cuts up
through the last of last night's
first deep cutting frost
to where a morning's weaker sun
barely begins to warm walls
of a weathering skid shack
just left by herders one day
still-bright gas company calendar
nailed to waterblackened pine
stopped at September, 1949,
rotting brown boots neatly lined
beside a gaping leatherhinged door
facing across a wool grass clearing
a skeltered balled bald eagle's nest
where two big birds, sharp eyed
wary but sure of their territory
circle low in sharp clear air
and watch.

2 comments:

Day Dreamer said...

Places like this dot Montana.

coyote said...

And further north... but yes, I could as easily have written this near Wolf Creek, any fall.