for Walter Pacosz: January 9, 1914 – October 16, 1987
flowing past
eroded limestone pillars
the other side
of the highway sign
declaring Leadwood.
A chilly mist clings
to October water.
The sun has yet
to clear the rim but
when it does light
will play rock
ancient in his day
and mine
like panpipes.
Sprawling on one cold
gravel bar, then another,
sifting rock for a hint
of fossil,
the breeze is sweet
with the scent of cottonwood.
Minnows dart
when I bend
for a better look.
A line comes to me.
This is my father’s house:
Bur oak
Osage orange
wild purple aster
pearly everlasting