Hike High
by Janan Platt

We hike Round Mountain.
Brown flowers. Scat. Meandering air.

The place where escaped helium balloons
from carnivals and car dealerships land.

The Manzanita grows so thick
boundaries disappear.

We can't pass in some places.
So we take the deer and coyote

trail, the path of life, of love.
The pines are Dr. Suessian

and move musically, waving
to the caravan of clouds.

---

Note:

This poem is very short and I wrote it after hiking on a mountain when my young kids were away out of town and I was missing them and wishing they could be on the hike with me. I rarely explain my poems. I just leave them be and say nothing about them to anyone and let the poem say it itself.

This was such a beautiful day. So I tried to capture the event in words to share with my children later. The photo I took with my digital camera is below. I also took a photo of the popped, melted balloons but I'll leave that to your imagination....