Take a Hike

by Martha Heyneman

My sister was a hiker.
I sat.
C’mon, Marph, she conjured me,
let’s take a hike.  I

groaned from somewhere
deep in Tolstoy or
Dostoevsky.  But

unwound my leg from
the arm of the overstuffed
chair and

followed her.  Trudging,
complaining, how much
farther?     We are

almost there, she
always said, “just
around the next corner” &

suddenly the world opened
out around us: hills
behind, in front of us

infinite space: the Bay, the city,
the Golden Gate, the
Pacific Ocean, & all the way

to China, or just

heaven, maybe,
stillness and overwhelming
sunlight everywhere instead of

air–but air too, fresh
wind from the ocean, the call
“Come away!”

The wind is rising, follow
the Sun into a still finer
level of silence,

world within world
standing on top
of Pansy Hill or sitting

on Big Rock.

— from Juniper Volume 2, Issue 3