I.
The road is steeper
Than I remember
Hills and mountains
Burned out a season ago
My passenger is in her thoughtful
Year before eighteen
A bright lady who has always been
Aware of everything
We reach the summit
Pine trees revealing the bright, sudden rays
Of a setting sun
Clouding my vision for a moment
Then the lake
The shining, the clarity
The declaration
Of the pie-billed grebe
We are here
We are here now
We are here
II.
In the morning the quail are up before dawn
Squabbling
Scratching
Doing depth calls into the woods
Shuffling, scrounging
I woke to my daughter
Searching for the lighter
To make herself tea
Jillian Makoutz
Jillian Makoutz lives in the Sierra Valley. Author of Four Seasons in the Sierra, Jillian loves writing poetry while in nature, but her love for language has taken her many places, including teaching English overseas in Croatia. She loves community poetry readings, preferably in a barn while it’s raining.