Cirque

I wanted to capture it for you, but
The photo shows almost nothing.

Not
The push and howl of the ceaseless wind. 
Not
The young couple seeking the perfect shot.

You can’t see 
Silt drifting to the floor of the primordial sea
Sleeping, crystalizing, awaiting
The heat of intrusion,
The long moment of metamorphosis
Capped by
Eons under the new waves, before
Sudden upthrust, solid rock folded like a bedsheet,
Sloughing off sediment until
A snow flurry birthed
A glacier crushed
A bite out of the horizon
Scattered the talus on this lakeshore
At the feet of an ancient 
Newborn pine
At the end of the trail.


JWW 10/30/25