Voices on the Wind Voices on Journey

Leaving the Chiricahuas by David Chorlton Follow the road through what’s left of the town; go past the sign that says you’re leaving and trust in the way forward winding through jay calls and oaks all the way to the chill in the bark of the sycamores shining from the banks of last summer’s creek. Look as you go for the shiver of light on the butte pressing out from the winter green trees; part rock, part earth, and part sheltering wing with its broken bones showing through muscle and time. It is bare as any memory you could smuggle from this place, and nothing on it grows high enough to cast a shadow.