high on Tincup Pass
thunderclouds form — but far south
a plump pika cries
bumble bee dances
on alpine golden aster
holiday begun
at twilight an owl
curious, cocked his wide head
two-legged elk? he asked
three a.m. panic:
eclipse made me pitch black blind
or else — cap on eyes
the climb short but steep
I hurry to set up camp
sleeping bag leg cramps
done! a fair exchange:
I gave up my trekking pole
the trail offered rain
waiting for David
to get down off the mountain
I’ve finished six poems
switchbacks ease the climb
so why do they seem more like
switchblades in the back?
like a kid’s squeeze toy
pika wants to hide and seek
but I ain’t playing
a skanky motel
outside of Buena Vista
but — Magic Fingers!
Too bleak and beautiful 