on the way home (road hazard)
Minam
Once, "Eh-mee-ni-mah..." was a peaceful place
.. several tribes gathered for early roots,
..... steelhead, whitefish, bighorn sheep or wapiti.
The old rockshelter was welcoming
... the campsites handy to wood and water.
Drovers, homesteaders and land speculators
. found the hidden valley following indian trails.
Tu-eka-kas posted his boundaries,
...traded friendship for peace . . .
.....and was rewarded with "the thieving treaty."
Wagon roads, toll bridges, railroad and log mill,
. a town and a fish hatchery to restore salmon runs,
.... then a highway later... and most folks
...... actually speed up to miss the historic vestiges.
Only a few fishermen wander here, now.
The rivers still flow by this place, sometimes high
. often-times as low as the legends, history and memories.
A canyon full of echos and dreams, illusions and delusions,
. it is still a quiet place to gather a few berries,
..... dig a little couse... watch the eagles or a bear.
R.Anderson, Wallowa
Corral Creek
A trail connects the lower Imnaha canyon
. to the upland prairie and forest.
The old people used to winter deep
. and crowd spring to the prairie
... for roots, game and an expansive view.
There is a pre-history and a history
. almost forgotten in this place
.... but... the scarred old pines remember.
The people... laughed, played
. and gathered sweet cambium here.
Once, a raiding party of Tukuaduka came
. looking for plunder, horses, women
..... and left their bones deep in Ni-mee-poo land.
Though congress has noted such events
. most people have forgotten.
The setting here provokes visions
. of exotic terranes, rich resources for life
... and depths of time in a widening space.
I... come here to dream, watch for falcons
. and listen for ancient echos.
R.Anderson Wallowa
fishing for dreams
could you be open, could you allow yourself
to feel, hear and see already having
that which you strive for even as
every moment flows on down the Wallowa
collides head-on with the Minam
meanders down to Rondowa? can you
take your pole and the best bait you know,
and fish hard for what it is you wish: can you
sit silent, can you smile politely at the fish and game guy,
can you stand perfectly still - can you let it all come
straight to you? you do not need a license to hook dreams here
Z.G.
simple they said - but missed entirely
the misty complexities and strange aroma
of a life lived like that
that writing has legs, and oozes bit by bit
through the mind with hardly a slant rhyme
to call home
simple is not the same as a life with
no passion, and the drill still
has mystery to it
it’s harder than you think not to bestow praise
even if you do know the fine translation is
“like me, like me!”
for the next lifetime, rise at dawn, and write something,
anything. lower your standards until
there's no need
Kathy Bowman, homage to Stafford's Thinking About Being Called Simple By A Critic
