Tom Zimmerman ~ TETONS JOURNAL

The Tetons off the balcony,
like me,
awash in blue-gray haze.

I drank an oak-aged IPA
at Wolfgang Puck’s in Denver. Read
Baudelaire, Detroit to Jackson

I stuck my head inside
a teepee.

Feel affinities.

Snake River rafting, saw
bald eagles, ospreys.

Great blue heron in a marsh.
And ravens everywhere.

A bull moose in the brush.
Some huckleberry vodka.
Stayed astride
a horse named Buster.

Cowboy sang while rainclouds sat
on Mount Moran.

That roof in Moose,
Wyoming: good for drinking beer.

It’s Idaho beyond
the eastern slope:
the mountains craggy, close, most beautiful
I’ve ever seen.

The Tetons.
First fur traders named them:
French for breasts.
Gets lonely in the West.

© 2015 Tom Zimmerman

The Big Windows Review 6 (Fall 2015)