We’re at the top of Old Smoky
(literally)
the sky above us blue but less blue
than the trees below.
And, just to my right,
directly behind you,
is a Popeye’s bucket,
open to the sky as if eager to measure rainfall,
the colors bright, unweathered…
I half expect someone’s left us
a couple thighs.
We’ve seen no one—
no one—this entire hike.
You haven’t seen it yet
and I wish I could disappear it
before you do,
but the funny thing about dominion
is it’s not just mine—
and it’s not just yours—
It’s Popeye’s, too.
Theric Jepson has lived in small towns and big cities, and has witnessed raw nature in both, making him a firm believer in speaking with the crows. His writings at the intersection of environment and religion have been published in Wilderness Interface Zone, Psaltery & Lyre, Califragile, and are forthcoming in Blossom as the Cliffrose (Torrey House Press, 2021). For more, follow Theric on Twitter @thmazing.
