Poems
by Terry
Brinkman
Mammoth
Available year-round Inn
New road after the flood
Visit Yellowstone’s heart
Mammoth to Norris playing a Mandolin
The Day’s listed to see elk
Blue Night fall with snowflakes in the wind
Grant Lodge lost in space
Start your trip A five-mile hike
Gun Powder Gray Road sunrise red
Weather Permitting from spring to fall
Delays are possible a summer snowfall
Bitterroot Valley
Chicago stockyard tip=toe
Olivet’s breeze between the Russian Olives
Steersman cowboys everywhere you look
Breeze blowing from the south
Chicago stockyard tunnels
Homestead Act 1862 under his pen
Granite High school so near
Bitterroot Valley under the bridge
House of Sticks
One house of sticks and one of brick
Mad alabaster silent articulated yellow sun
A cat to its claws, bones to a skeleton
Cries true love and carries a big stick
Tide sheeting the lows of the arsenic
Over his shoulder, polluter perfect simpleton
Steams of coffee on her breath phenomenon
Daisies merely emulated arithmetic
The top of the hill Annie’s house was high
Skies pine fringed plateau Irish place
Death pew of the slain horrify
The man went to sleep he saw Alice
Checker works of leaves on top of the Pie
Lip fibers of tobacco fell in the Chalice
