The way the light—slants downward
Northward over—the mountain range
The escarpments—the forested ridges
A winter light—low over the river
Mostly we were there—during summers
Parking the car—on the road leading into
The rainforest—on the northern side of
Mt. Rainier—covered with fir and cedars
Ten years ago—we hiked across ancient
Riverbeds of smooth—rounded boulders
And white-bleached stones—and rocks
To get to Chenuis Falls—on the other side
Standing in the middle—between the two
Sides of a long swath of—glacial debris
Looking up at the ancient—granite towers
From down below—terminal moraine awe
One could hear the river—the mountains
Communing—with each other like Forces
In the I Ching—caught up in hexagramic
Flow of huge spaces—both old and new
Pausing for a cold beer—in the shadow of
Some giant boulder—leaning back and
Looking up at it all—our time together
So brief and fine—like a snapshot
The Cleave 