SUMNER BUTTE

Step by straining step we climb from the valley
Below, and rounding the cliff there looms above
A mountain mass; its varicolored walls of
Vertical fluting rise like the steeps that airily

Overhang the plunging chasms of Alph,
The vasty labyrinths of Thompson’s fleeing–
No living blade or leaf to soften the gleaming
Rocky eminence flowering above us all,

The top not peaked but plane, a summit four-square,
Sublime, inviting worship, requiring awe.
And later we further ascend and learn to call
It a butte, outlying shoulder of a range

With other buttes, shadowed by higher temples
And thrones. Worship is real, but calls for humbleness.

(87 Canyon, Feb. 26, 1993)

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