Chidago Canyon Petroglyph
GUIDED
(Granny Grills)
Though I read our Lord’s words every night by candlelight, it’s the darker mysteries
I live by. The dipper that rattles the bucket when nobody’s there, smoke from the chimney of an empty house, or bones gathered in a hollow tree. These are the omens I understand and heed. I sink so deep in the ribs of these mountains, my listening’s grown sharpened to shine, my eyes trained for signs, scattered for the seeing.
Child, follow your ripe
compass of sun; follow howls
heard in forests within.
___________
Ellis Elliott
Review by Jared Pearce
The wonderful images—the darkness of them—makes this poem gravelly. At the end I wouldn’t have minded a little more, which I consider a good sign.