To Love What is Close

I found this place
before the winter snows,
green and tender
with the wet smell of life,
the ground soft and open,
speaking in the timeless way.
Resting here, the old wounds healing,
the impulse to go on
quieted beside the river,
limbs like drooping cedars,
ready to let go and touch the earth.
The pass ice is melting,
the way across the mountains
opening for spring
yet I don’t think I’m going,
the smell of apples
and litter of oaks
enough of what I want,
nurturing the urge
to love what is close.
I still see the mountains
but from where my roots
tangle in the soil and stones,
going down into the dark
among the ancient trees.




Still Meadow Men


10 Responses to “To Love What is Close”

  1. Eleanor GillMilner says:

    This poem brought tears. I hear you, Don…
    And the photo… part of your band of brothers… some of the best people that I have had the good fortune to spend time with.

  2. Such a rich and beautiful journey and a profound rest in between.

  3. Pichay says:

    …and, to love “who” is near, whether on this side or the other–the other being a place I know little of….but somewhere beyond the pass. Unselfish love says abide here, as you describe, Don. Thank you.

  4. Jim Ehmke says:

    This resonates with me, Don. Beautiful heart, soft flow…..

  5. Maria Jimenez Frid says:

    Your very touching poem reminds me of the old song that calls for loving the one you’re with by Crosby, Stills, and Nash. Your composition speaks to us of the richness that is at hand. The mountain calls but there is work and loving to be done at home. Thank you for the words that touch my heart, Don!

  6. Nancy Rose says:

    Yes, my experience too. Not cut off from the mountain, but content with the connection that just is, without having to go there. Here is enough, and contains it all.

  7. David Banner says:

    Loving where you are really speaks to me, Don…..

  8. lfj gill says:

    Reads as a fine, finished, elegantly crafted, beautifully flowing poem–the imagery carrying the reader right through the writer’s experience, in concert with ones own, on the simple and the rare planes of being, being here. Thank you.

  9. Pat Fitzsimmons says:

    I hear and feel “the elder’s presence” in this poem, at home in one’s own skin and connected to all things. Thank you!

  10. Athena Coleman says:

    The richness of this poem and the accompanying picture are beyond words. This is one of my (and Xavier’s) favorite pictures.

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