Running the Dish
My rhapsody came from defying
gravity, from finding the elements
that transcend the body, seeking
steel for structure, step by step,
day after day striding the miles
through those hills, their yellowed folds
rolling and rising. I savored
those oaks, big and gnarled,
more bark than leaf, knowing time,
rooted deep
so that even years of drought
do not destroy their domination.
They stand and rule, with majesty,
inviting worship as icons, worship
as triumph, without church or pew
or sermon. They still ungnarl me
as they stand in the hills,
not even shouting, just standing.
By Colleen Teasdale Filler, MA '80.
