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i remember you reaching for my hand as we crossed the tuolome river,
“it looks like we are standing on the back of a fish,” you said.
that july was as wild as a greenback cutthroat,
too endangered to keep, too vital to forget.
scales, snowmelt, and sandstone.
our echoes descended canyon walls at 200 miles per hour
tending to lonely gorges below—
two peregrine’s in flight.
that summer was a million years in the making
like the memory of the colorado river.
my toes stretched out across the dashboard,
each little monolith of skin nudging a parched afternoon
each little thought pursuing a giant wind column across its plateau.
water, water, water
pulsating like the softest laughter
beneath our foreign fishing lines,
with a half moon, quieter than snow fields in the alpine tundra,
skinny dipping in its darkness.
~by trisha/sorrel
 Greenback Cutthroat
see gallery for more Colorado trip photos!
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