Here are some words from the High Sierra to get our blood going, from Hannah Duane’s poem “Tarn Mind.” Hannah, of San Francisco, is the youngest contributor to the upcoming issue of Deep Wild: Writing from the Backcountry (17 years old), and probably the most energetic. (That’s her taking flight on the mountain top.)
I am half mountain-made spirit, and learned
Snyder’s Riprap and the language of simplicity.
White granite domes are temples.
Memories only fade when wood births fungi.
My soul resides in scree slopes that shift in winter wind,
muted hues mingled with toe-numbing air before dawn,
when down-stacked fleece-stacked thermals go from
shivering to morning sweat: cold on arrival, sap-scented.
Once a week, we will be publishing for your reading pleasure previews from Deep Wild 2020, to be released this summer. To order your copy, please visit https://deepwildjournal.com/subscribe/