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The Whirlwind Review Issue 1 Table of Contents More Poetry Previous Bradley Earle Hoge
Medicine WheelThey say the journey is more importantthan the destination, the carrying of stones to wagon, the helping your children lift them, as if they are strong, the wending the wagon down the slope gently so as not to tip it over, as Grandmother, my mother, watches from the deck, as we build her medicine wheel, on the mountain she has moved to, from the rocks which feed her, under the dry sky, the aspen steeples, as my children get distracted, but I must finish, lining the path, delineating it by stone from the flat earth where the broken remnants of ancient flood are scattered like evidence only an archaeologist can see of ancient civilization, hidden just below the surface, and the sun shines bright, but the air is crisp, and my father waits for the stones, knowing where to place them, standing, marking my destination, where there will be no sadness waiting, not because the journey was rewarding rather than arduous, not because my purpose was not often distracted, not because time sang through the aspen branches, but because it is the destination that defines the journey. |
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