Crossing Missoula LbNA #18977 (ARCHIVED)

Whereby the bright moon and stars do not shine alone
Flashing through the darkness in their warm and amber tone,

Crosses lead the way, warning those who wish to pass by,
Not of the burden carried, but of a simple pine-made tie.

And once chiseled rock, at Orphan Child, up the line,
At the place of rest: the station here serves wine!

You’ve rounded now and look confused,
your initial thought was wrong,
but follow close the sun that passes
after the day that’s long.

You might be there, from North past Friends and Grand,
But coming from the Farmer’s place, see a field of sand.

Tunnel through your mind to find any rhyme for this
And spiral up the ramp to find this tragic place of bliss.

It is the plastic gap
spread across your nose,
It is the place where captains go
to fight away their foes,

It is the funny billiard tool
which causes much repose,
It is the sight that cellists see
when looking at their toes.

Watch the timber, hear the bells, see the light once bend,
Pause but for a moment, though, you’re very near the end,

With your back toward towers, never mind their chimes,
And take this onward path that spirals down a couple times.

Looking out, the cold north beckons, but put aside this thought,
And turn to venture where your conscience would probably rather not.

To your heart’s side, look as if a serviceman not in any shop,
And find the gray wall box: It is sitting there on top!!