Dad, it is autumn here. The acequias are lined with flame yellow cottonwoods and the robin’s egg blue sky hangs over the mountain. I breathe like you taught me. It calls to me every autumn, so I hike the mountain trail as far as I can, then sit and breathe as you taught me. Birds ready themselves for winter as does the blue-tailed lizard sunning next to me. Unafraid, he watches me just before a deer tiptoes in and freezes. I move slowly back down the alluvial plain and breathe like you taught me. I follow the alluvial plain to the river and revel in the smell of roasting chile. It is autumn here. Winter will come soon enough and I breathe as you taught me.
Deborah Chappell has a BA in English and an MA in Creative Writing-Poetry. Her work has appeared in The Denver Quarterly.
Richard Long, the editor of 2River, for a number of years has been writing ghost bike poems very loosely based on his summer bicycle tours throughout the US. Four of them were just published by #TravelArtistsHub.