Golden Canyon, Death Valley
The walls close around me
as everything starts to flow
mustard-colored sediments
surging on violent waters
compressed in
eon-long seconds
into layers of living rock
conglomerated and tortured
tilted and thrust into
jagged tips against the sky
until wind and water
break them apart
into boulders and pebbles
that crash and tumble
down the canyon
I feel myself
newly constructed
from the surface debris
of past ages
pressed and uplifted
into whatever new life
awaits down the canyon
I savor this moment
in the brief history of me
before it breaks apart again
First published in Door is a Jar Literary Magazine Issue 40 doorisajarmagazine.net/issues/fall-2026
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Specially like the last paragraph, as you bring the moving earth back to your consciousness and the brevity of your life/this moment.
Thanks, Elizabeth! Most people don’t bother to respond and it’s always nice to hear from you. Hope you are well.
Wonderful poem. Love the vivid imagery and the way the momentum builds. The verse itself seems to gather speed as it tumbles down the page. Really effective.
Thanks, Michael! Always value your thoughtful feedback.
Cheers,