On the Way to Titus Lake

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I glory in a meadow of shooting stars,
their magenta petals—undulant wings;
black sepals—tiny pointed beaks,
and  wonder—is everything in heaven white?

Just once more I’d wish to see
the dizzying depths of emerald lakes,
the milkweed beetle’s cobalt blue,
an orange butterfly on goldenweed.

Surely heaven is ablaze with
Indian paintbrush and scarlet gilia,
next to fields of pure-white mariposa
lifting their heads in sweet devotion.

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About Judy Grigg Hansen
I write poetry and nonfiction, and I am passionate about the people, places, and wildflowers of Idaho and the Northwest.

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