Aravaipa Canyon
Three days’ drinking water
in plastic jugs dug into me
beneath the backpack’s straps and belt.
We had to carry it because
herds of cattle graze Sonoran tableland
within the canyon watershed.
It would be three days,
out from West Trailhead
and back. Strong or
destination hikers can take
8-10 hours to do the whole 12.25 miles
of the Wilderness. Not me,
as by then you understood
from our first time trekking,
birding, photographing flowers
through Colorado meadows
up to the tundra’s cairns.
Sycamore, ash, cottonwood, willow
grew alongside Aravaipa Creek
then, above it, cholla, saguaro, prickly pear.
Creek pebbles in my sneakers
hurt too much off and on;
slogging was the only way.
But I would still go back there
for the chance to see how daybreak
etches into the desert sandstone rim
the wheat red color of your hair.
5 thoughts on "Aravaipa Canyon"
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I enjoy how the poem is address, ending on the image of the red hair of its subject. It lets us in to the story
There was no struggle to the view you took us to. What a lovely poem!
The contrasts in this poem are so interesting!
Shaun, Amy, Nancy — let’s all go back to visit. You carry the water this time. TY, Vickie
Love this journey, all the beauty you describe.