Yosemite
By Sara Eddy
I left behind a sad story:
friendships ruined,
love affairs sundered,
a stupid job, and
a new friend made
but left behind on
the last day in Seattle.
I took the bus south,
the Green Tortoise Bus,
with seats removed and
one big mattress where
latter-day hippies played guitar--
I took it south
to Joni’s California.
And there, from San Francisco,
I went east to Yosemite
and I felt ancient and undone
until I crawled into the belly
of a fallen sequoia,
felt the soft quiet
earthly dust beneath
my hands and knees, and
began the rest of my life.
Sara Eddy is a writing instructor at Smith College, in Northampton Ma. She lives in nearby Amherst with her two teenagers, the sweetest little lapcat, and four beehives. Her poems have recently appeared in Foundry, Surreal Poetry and Poetics, Panoply, and Damfino. Her poem "Ede Market Day" appeared in the anthology The Donut Book in 2017.
Featured image by mr. E / CC BY
