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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Chetta Achara wrote a blog about Mount St. Helens. The volcano erupted in May 1980 and Chetta was a witness. I hope you read her blog. It inspired my poem. I saw ash on the highway 6 months later. My husband and I were still newlyweds. He was 20 and I was 19. I was stationed on a Navy base in Northern California. MSH-I Can Never Retrace Mount St. Helens, I can never retrace; I can never see the beauty of her face; collapsed before I rode alongside her ashes. I will never see her rage, her forty lashes. Seemed less likely to blow, like child, younger. We never would have thought to upset her, but she laughed as she cried earth-red tears, steering the unaware into her path, their fears, for a red line was drawn, and the curious tread upon her boundaries while she fumed, furious. Scientists would make one believe, she’s on the level, but they found her a liar, and a murderer; the devil. I saw her remains upon the road to Phil’s home. Like the buffalo upon the plains, her ashes roam. I didn’t think to collect it as a historical specimen. As a young adult there was no tiktoc sentiment. Still, I never forget the antipathetic highway, not of dreams but an awesome sight underway. When I was in my early days, I was still learning that there are parts of the world that are burning. Now I know…I know too much. Some things are best not to touch. The brain hurts with too much info. At any time, there is a fuse that will blow.
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