The Backward Glance
I look back at myself climbing the nine mile
Bright Angel trail out of the Grand Canyon:
Halfway, she runs out of water, and must
panhandle sips from passing hikers,
then pours trickles over her hot head.
I love this woman who never hiked,
who practiced for months, who learned
she could helicopter out only if she broke
her leg, who learned too late she could
have sent her belongings on a mule.
She lightened her load carrying less water,
causing problems for herself and friend.
I love that woman with all her foibles
I reach for her, want to hold her,
but, like Eurydice, she’s gone.
© Jeanie Greensfelder
