Trail Mountain

                    from the Cherokee

by Andres Rojas


What is left of crags
is as much riven inheritance

as the rough-winged swallows
buzzing the rhododendrons,

not at play, hunters on the fly
as are we all, each viridescent laurel

an axis mundi no more native
than the clouds invisible today:

what is gone could last
through anything, except

what came. That isn’t right —
what remains is what remains

always, for a certain time: water
drawn four thousand feet

downhill, a wafting keen,
dusk clear as any conscience

that does not look too far afield —
next ridgeline, state line,

halfway across to the Pacific.







Andres Rojas has an M.F.A. from the University of Florida and his poems have most recently appeared or are forthcoming in Barrow Street, Colorado Review, Massachusetts Review, New England Review, and Notre Dame Review.


One thought on “Trail Mountain

  1. Great stuff from an old friend. If there is such a thing as “negative space” and its use in writing, I think you have achieved it here, Andy.

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