We the Voyeurs

We fly in this metal cylinder
to escape the city frenzy
and we still sit in the midst of it.
Hear metal belt click shut
and engines roar
feel the rush of air
from round blow holes overhead.
Nothing natural in this enclosed world.

Binoculars hang about our necks
a noose we choose to use.
Instead of trekking high,
step by step, from tree line to the sky
we ride a four wheeled bus,
now dusty from its assault,
on roads carved deep
into your very core.

We crane our necks
at white dots on mountain tops
adjust a rubber eye piece to our face
seek to magnify without a fuzzy blur.
Specs become horned dall sheep,
heads down to graze upon the rocks
unaware of human spies
with black binoculars eyes.

Last night, we communed with earth
faces up, we stared
into the cold black diamond sky.
One star jarred loose,
arced its way across the sky
as if to tell us in its glitter script,
you are the voyeurs within this space.

IMG_1841

Denali National Park bus. The Kantishna Experience goes to the end of the one and only road in the park — to mile 92.  I was struck by the magnificence of the land and its inhabitants: grizzlies (see poem Ursa), caribou, moose, dall sheep. And I kept thinking that we were the voyeurs, the interlopers in this incredible place.

7 thoughts on “We the Voyeurs

  1. AnnMarie Roselli-Kissack September 6, 2015 / 12:35 pm

    Morning, my friend.
    I do hope this beautiful morning finds you feeling like a twenty year old 🙂
    The entire idea of this piece is entrancing beginning with that most lovely and enticing of nouns – voyeur. “Voyeur,” labels us as we truly are – watchers. Thinking through your stanzas here with “voyeur” in mind – how bright and perceptive your words are.
    am:)

    Liked by 2 people

    • lillian September 7, 2015 / 12:07 pm

      I’m a bit behind in my response 😦 FINALLY feeling more myself. Succombed to antibiotics and that did the trick. No fun to be dragging and feeling like a gorilla with your hands reaching down to the ground. MUCH better now……maybe twenty-something — as in add thirty to that?? 🙂

      We leave for 2 weeks in Provincetown on Saturday. The utter calm of having the ocean by your feet – yep – that shot on the top of my blog — exactly! 🙂

      Meant to ask….are you in a “long-term” art subbing job? How I would love to see you in the classroom! My guess is you bring an energetic joy to the kids — hope your school is air conditioned? Heat wave coming our way — there?

      Liked by 1 person

      • AnnMarie Roselli-Kissack September 7, 2015 / 2:21 pm

        Lillian,
        So glad you’re feeling better – nasty stuff those types of “bugs.” Sometimes, even us tough chicks have to give in to the little brown Rx bottle:)
        Ah, Provincetown – when I was a kid we vacationed there a few times. It was beautiful. No one ever remembers these, but me and my 5 sibs practically ate the bag to get to the treat inside – clamcakes. They were deep-fried and mostly dough with a touch of clam as not to clog every artery at once – YUM!!! My dad always bought a bag or two or three whenever we vacationed by the sea:)
        Subbing just 3 weeks. It was a tremendous amount of upfront time as I’m trying to stay very organized for the teacher so she doesn’t miss a beat. The job is just for a few weeks. Truth be told, subbing can be difficult for me. My kiddies (mind you they are not perfect) were raised with old school values – we’re very big on respect here and holding doors and manners…. I find these basic social skills quite lacking with many of today’s students – I find it quite disheartening at times. I can get pretty tough when I must – but where I ask is the fun in that:)
        Yup, more heat – darn it – the school is old and steamy hot…oh well:)

        Liked by 1 person

      • lillian September 7, 2015 / 2:28 pm

        Subbing is always tough … And yes… Sure do understand the behavior expectations. “Free to be you and me” not withstanding, hands raised and “please” and “thank-you” at the very least, not a universal practice 😦

        Liked by 1 person

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