Leadville, Inexplicably

Even now, at the height of summer,
It doesn't get very warm up here:
Seventy-five if you stand in the sun,
And there isn't much air at 10,000
Feet. I sit at a table outside of a bar
With a drink and view of the Collegiate
Peaks, unable to fully explain why I've
Come. The forested slopes and
The meadows are pretty, the fast-moving
Creeks, and the beaver-dam bogs.
But the town is a dump, despite all
The tourists, and no one I know
Lives around here these days. My dad
Did, but he's dead, and has been for years.
We weren't close, something else that I
Cannot explain. I don't think about him,
And doubt that I miss him, but why
Else would I have come here?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 18 times
Written on 2019-03-18 at 17:36

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