one more poem by Peggy Shumaker

Long Before

We Got

Here,

Long After

We’re Gone

In the season blue-white sun

barely lifts above the ridge,

limps along the horizon

then dives out of sight,

we’re changed each day by light.

Someone who’s gone before

broke trail, set tracks.

With the right kick wax,

we make our way among birch

breathing hard rare frosted light.

We make of light arpeggio crystals,

caribou dance fans, shush

of bristles.  One moment made

alive, human, unafraid.

All that’s lost not gone.