Sierra Nevada Mountain Pass

Crossing a mountain pass,
Through the Sierra Nevada range,
Evokes memories of,
Junior high school history.
The Donner Party,
Stuck in these same mountains,
During winter.
Freezing and starving,
They soon turn to cannibalism.
No such danger of that here,
Or now, in the summertime.
Still, it’s an uneasy feeling.
Despite the overwhelming beauty,
Of the wide open countryside.
The mountains, the woods,
Pale green rolling prairies.
There is nothing here.
No houses nor farms,
Nor power lines for endless miles.
Only the road gives any clue,
That humans have been here.
And the occasional,
Open range warning sign,
With a crossing,
We see signs for deer,
Elk, cows, bulls, horses,
And even donkeys.
But none of these ventures,
Out onto the highway,
Instead, the cows graze,
In the pine forest.
And a single deer,
Looks up in surprise at the car,
From the middle of a far away field.


5 thoughts on “Crossings

  1. Eating oneself is an existential dilemma. Would consuming oneself satisfy one’s hunger, since there’s less of you to satisfy?

    1. And, would one begin to think less of oneself? Begin to treat oneself like livestock? Get drunk and tip oneself over in the field on a Saturday night? Better to avoid the whole thing.

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