September 2020 ~ pandemic and wildfires
Poised and breathless, after too long away, my whole being turned toward home.
But the path to Crater Lake was blocked by tortured, desiccated trees that immolated themselves in their rage. I can’t blame them.
So I’m stranded here unwatered (except by my tears) and withering.
At least I’ve come to know this: I’m here. Crater Lake is there. As sure as the two of us are real, so is the reality of our belonging to each other.
You and I are the two ends of the rainbow spanning the miles of fire and smoke.
How are you?
Margaret Emerson
This article appears in Burger Week 2021.