Ekphrastic Poem: How We Will Walk Through the Extremely Green

Postcard of Haleakalā National Park, Maui provided by the author.

How We Will Walk Through the Extremely Green

We might press through fronds, find the viridescent pool
stop there to gaze up from the body murky with mud
leaf, and algae to the turbulent head of white hair 

caught facing away from us. We might crawl up steep
arms to the cliff shoulders where trees lean stiff, stark.
Mind the edge, who’s to blame, the strong urge to plunge

into water to start over broken again. Or, I believe,
the long way around, then over to the half-hidden
wooden bridge we see above frowning like the soul’s

arch. Overcome with cascade, mist, and dapple, we will
close our eyes to the falls, reassure each other over roar
we are not one irredeemable slide away from turning, too.

Richard Leis

Richard Leis’s poems have been published in Impossible Archetype, The Laurel Review, Manzano Mountain Review, the Adult Children anthology from Wising Up Press, and several speculative poetry journals. He has been recognized for his work with multiple nominations for the Pushcart Prize and as a finalist in the Tucson Festival of Books Literary Awards in 2018 and 2021. His website is richardleis.com.

Next (2 Ekphastic Poems) >

< Back (Responding to Red Abstract / Fragment, 1968-'69 by N.H. Pritchard.)