You ask me to list those special
places where my soul was forged.
The flattery overwhelms me,
but I will try to help with
your notes.
There are the hills that are monuments
surrounding my earliest memories.
From the Peak, I felt watched over and
protected.
From the Spanish Peaks, with their great white
snow coat, I learned beauty
that takes the breath.
From Reservoir Hill I learned that there was
peace in solitude,
that I could be
a hero to myself
with no one to contradict.
From the Lover's Lane
on Little Goat Hill
I learned that indeed sex does happen.
From Simpson's rest
I learned that garish
ugliness goes unnoticed
by those who
live below it's flashing lights.
And on that little patch of grass
at the top of Pine Street
I learned the great pleasure
of intimacy
as my friends
and I had a last
communal cigarette there after school.
I learned envy and ambition by being
ignored by the sophisticates
in Riverside soda fountain.
My raucous being I learned
by showing off to friends
and girls in the old West theater.
In Morrey Taylor's office at the JC
I learned the pleasure of ideas
and the intimacy of being mentored.
That very old Carnegie Library
on Animas is where I learned
to love the feel of a book in my hand.
From the Isis theater
I learned to time and space travel
to a place where I was a hero on a horse.
From Katie and Joe's out at Jansen
I learned that a taste
for beer can be developed.
From that house at the top of Garfield
I learned the value of family and work.
Trinidad was my classroom and the
list of learning stations is much longer,
but a docent you know about
the attention span of folks.