Caleb’s Pike

20170322_192358Caleb’s Pike, BC.

I see an arbutus tree, half-burned, bordering the edge of the pike, overlooking the bay. The wind is howling through the strands of my hair; the wind is too fierce for me to cry and lament any of my hyperbolic sorrows, for which I have many.

I walk.

When I get to the tree, I wrap my arms around the closest branch and hoist myself up. I start to climb– one branch, then the next, then the next, until I cannot climb any higher.

I sit.

The wind calms and the rain starts.

I cry.

I am a giant woman in a small body.

I dance—

All the way down to the ground where I move with an ease back toward my car.




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