Last Alpine Flowers
As an amateur-amateur photographer, I rely on the same imperative to capture images as I do to capture words: pay attention. “Dreamer Catcher” and “Last alpine flowers” are two examples. As I said in a poem called “Through the Lifting Morning Fog,” seeing that huge spider web required an adjustment of sight: “If my body tilts/ a bit or my glance angles toward the sky/it disappears. This artistry demands/straight-on sight and backdrops of evergreens/to confirm it exists.”
The “Last alpine flowers” were drooping outside a visitors’ center at Rocky Mountain State Park. On this September day, their yellow caught my attention and invited me to celebrate them before they disappeared until next spring.
From associate professor of English to management trainer to retiree, Carolyn Martin (she/her/hers) is a lover of gardening and snorkeling, backyard birds and feral cats, writing and photography. Having just had cataract surgery, Carolyn is looking forward to discovering how her new sight will serve up the world in new and interesting ways. She is currently the poetry editor of Kosmos Quarterly: journal for global transformation