SAN FRANCISCO PEAKS

The air of the high plateau 1s spicy with royal
Stands of Douglas fir, and where it rises
The firs and quaking aspens become allies,
As streaming deltas of autumn gold uncoil

From darker green. Ascending to ten thousand feet
They reach the zone of their betters, the Englehart
Spruces, rugged, boreal avant-guard,
Eager to dare the forbidding beckoning heights,

Thirsting for wind and cold. Their tops today
Are loaded with cones, amber and gummy, waltzing
Seedpods breeding Commando troops to assault
Humphreys and Agassiz. Here they always fail

And are forced to yield the cols to the humblest tree,
The bristlecone, who inherits arctically.

(129, October 12, 1993)

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