Cleaving Boone’s Trace
They’d ask you first: How much distance
to bridge this gap?
And then they’d lead you down
to the gullies where the bluffs
bare themselves to you.
They’d test your palms for blisters,
read each crease–crooked creekbeds—
press agate into your pocket.
Could you hold up under
their weight?
And if you’d let them,
they’d show you the dry creek
where the coydogs hide their bones
and how the limestone scarp lists upward
as palisades embrace the Kentucky River.
They’d show you hipbone
on sandstone–where many wild mouths
touched the salt-lick.
Even in a drought year
when the heart cracked open.
Even in the flooding season
when the Kentucky River forgot
and reforged its name.
17 thoughts on "Cleaving Boone’s Trace"
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Ooh, this is so wonderfully full of wild Kentucky nature imagery. “…hipbone/ on sandstone—where many wild mouths/touched the salt-lick.” Love it!
Excellent, Shaun! It bears saying one more time: You have become a truly amazing poet. Your depth, breadth and maturity on the page this month have been astounding.
Wow! I love where this poem goes. You poetry really makes Kentucky sing.
Wow! Shaun, you take us to beautiful, wild places in this one. I particularly love this:
“They’d show you hipbone
on sandstone–where many wild mouths
touched the salt-lick.”
Fantastic write!
your kind of on-site interview makes me appreciate better the skills, work ethic, and understanding the early settler’s had to build on salt-licked limestone
hipbone on sandstone
not to mention, I can hear the pronunciation
So many beautiful lines – I especially love the idea of the palisades embracing the Kentucky River.
Love the imagery in this poem and the alliterations and many memorable lines, including
“And if you’d let them,
they’d show you the dry creek
where the coydogs hide their bones”
Excellent, Shaun! Kudos for using the contronym “cleaving” and weaving both so well into the poem – the blisters and the cracking as well as the embrace.
“where the bluffs
bare themselves to you.” – oh my yes!!
Beautiful Shaun, so many great descriptions and images. I’m fond of the Kentucky reforging its name.
Wild side of Kentucky! Beautiful images!
Shaun, this is a remarkable and memorable poem. The visuals, the tactiles. My favorite phrase:
And if you’d let them,
they’d show you the dry creek
where the coydogs hide their bones
I love the “if you’d let them.”
Thank you so very much for sharing this wonderful Kentuck-based poem. <3
What a remarkable poem.
Nested becoming: the “you,” the interviewees, the landscape, the River.
Amazing.
I love your “whew: and “shew” that you leave as comments on our poetry, Shaun.
This poem earns a well deserved “whew’ and a “shew”!
So many powerful lines. A few favorites:
“each crease–crooked creekbeds—” (love the music in this)
and “Even in the flooding season/when the Kentucky River forgot/and reforged its name.”
Great write, Shaun! Musically rich, vivid imagery, and almost unfathomable depth in abundance here.
“They’d test your palms for blisters,
read each crease–crooked creekbeds—
press agate into your pocket.”
Thank you for sharing this stellar writing.
Gorgeous work! These lines are luscious:
They’d show you hipbone
on sandstone–where many wild mouths
touched the salt-lick.
Love how wild and lush this poem is. What stunning imagery in:
hipbone
on sandstone–where many wild mouths
touched the salt-lick
and
the dry creek
where the coydogs hide their bones
Thank you for your poems–always complex, nuanced, and tender.