Listen to Sherry O'Keefe read "And Yes, the River Waits:"
And Yes, the River Waits
Mountain water bending around river stones
is different from what I might think. He tells
me this while I stand dryly on the rocky bank.
Yesterday I had flown to Washington to help
pack two years of college stuff in one sports
car and a U-Haul truck. It is past my bedtime,
but I wade out to join him, knee-deep
in the creek. We’ve been sampling water ever
since we left. We already know Idaho water.
At high noon, it planted a moan in the back
of our dry throats, but now camping along
the Blackfoot we wait for the midnight stroke.
Wouldn’t the river taste better with the moon
acting as our light? My toes grow numb,
I shiver like a mom. He is my son and this
is why I’ve missed him. Tasting winter water
is his way of coming home.
Listen to Sherry O'Keefe read "Pryor Mountain Ice:"
Pryor Mountain Ice
Too few people could leave the terraced
fossil rock untouched. Such admiration
eroded the shale bank. The steep
trail to the cave now lies crumbled
in the gorge. I had explored the cave
before its collapse and knew
how solid silence feels within
fractured walls of ice. Across the deep
ravine, wild mustangs keep distance
on their side. They venture near
their aspen edge, watching me watch
them. With the cave gone, I want
to call out to them. Run.
Sherry O'Keefe grew up in a remote power camp in Montana and is a graduate of MSU-Billings. Her work can be found in Switched-on Gutenberg, Avatar Review, Fifth Wednesday Journal, Two Review, Babel Fruit, Soundzine, The High Desert Journal, and Main Street Rag. Her chapbook, Making Good Use of August was released in October 2009 from Finishing Line Press. Sherry is the editor of Soundzine. Visit her here: www.toomuchaugustnotenoughsnow.blogspot.com.