A Poem by John Miatech

Sierras in May

These mountains are important

All their secret, lonely places,
Where the clouds drop their rain
Enough color happens here
To catch anyone’s attention

Where a black basalt ledge

Juts out above a meadow,
I let my dad’s ashes loose,
To chase his dream of being
A high country cowboy

Down below this spot, a river winds out from Independence Lake

A cool, cerulean blue line flowing east,

Where dragonflies hover in their helicopter bodies

And the grass grows tall

John Miatech has published three books of poetry, Things to Hope For, Waiting for Thunder and What the Wind Says. He currently is working on a new poetry collection, Stretching Into Evening. Miatech’s work has appeared in Anesthesia Review, BlazeVox, RiverSedge, Cellar Roots, Big River Poetry Review, Savasvati, Blue Lake Review,  Northwest Review, and Kind of a Hurricane Press.