Saturday in CinCity

From Here to There

by Brad Leithauser

There are those great winds on a tear
Over the Great Plains,
Bending the grasses all the way
Down to the roots
And the grasses revealing
A gracefulness in the wind's fury
You would not otherwise
Have suspected there.

And there's the wind off the sea
Roiling the thin crowns of the great
Douglas firs on the cragged
Oregon coast, uprooting
Choruses of outraged cries,
As if the trees were unused
To bending, that can weather
Such storms for a century.

And—somewhere between those places,
Needing a break—we climb out stiff
From our endless drive to stand, dwindled,
On a ridge, holding hands,
In what are foothills only because
The neighboring mountains are
So much taller, and there are the breezes,
Contrarily pulled, awakening our faces.


  1. "Stand, dwindled, on a ridge" Great thought, succinct.

  2. Hi Distracted, I've been away from the blogs for a while, standing out on the wild Brittany coastline, blown by a wind that comes in off the Atlantic, watching the sun sinking over the bay, the full moon rising. Am looking forward to reading yours again more regularly, as it is one of the shining stars in the night...

  3. Lovely poem, and the picture works beautifully with it!

  4. Amazing, the power of nature to 'dwindle' us. Beautiful. Words and picture.


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