Poems for the Trail

Poems for The Trail By Anna Forsman

Memories may be unclear, But something about Summer sunsets Makes Winter impossible to unscramble. Bleached skies rise in riddles, And leave us weary, While images of germination Inform our conceptions of Spring. We can grow in Winter, too, Observing new patterns, Confessing to old habits, To share shadows And bear hollows -

I climb Lunar Mountains in my mind And do everything for the last time Because nothing is the same as it repeats. I can hike for days and live endless Summers but never can I return to A sliver of time. I will relisten to my favorite songs And revisit our favorite spots but Time knows not Of our affinities.

Where am I as the Earth turns? Who am I as Summer leaves and takes with it what I know from June to August? I wake up a new person every day And don’t recognize myself How can others? I see a puddle and that is all, And a face should not matter. But identity is rooted in reflections Of people, Of places, Of times, And these things change. Where does that leave us?

To drive cars Is to create backyards Is to cover the stars And let the world burn As the end starts But we can instead learn To refocus our Lens

So to challenge the end Is it possible

Can we begin again?