Tufa Creek

From twenty thousand feet
the hills resemble an old man's hands
skin fitting loosely over the bones
a shawl of soil draped over stones
rivers meandering like convex veins.

At this distance
the creek does not show its face
beauty draws a blank
at thirty meter resolution
The horse trails mere spider lines
written on the weeds.

No wonder the map
calls this drainage intermittent:
the flash of water hidden beneath the trees
no hint of crystal calcite ridges
wrinkling downstream.

Copyright 2003 Jo Schaper