Fog fills the water,
it’s hard to see the mountains,
we’ve been camped here for days,
your body so familiar it feels
like my own skin, ordinary, warm,
the surprise of no surprises,
we swim through nights without
darkness, wake to
eagles down the beach,
bear prints around the tent,
we hang our food from tree branches,
drink dirty water,
sit on the shore until we lose
our capacity for words,
mouths, meanings,
out here with the wind,
the waves,
the long cool stretches,
and wild.
Cinthia Ritchie is an Alaska writer, ultra-runner and three-time Pushcart Prize nominee who spends a ridiculous amount of time running mountains with a dog named Seriously. Find her work at New York Times Magazine, Evening Street Review, Sport Literate, Rattle, Best American Sports Writing, Mary, Into the Void, Clementine Unbound, Deaf Poets Society, Forgotten Women anthology, Nasty Women anthology, Gyroscope Review, Bosque Literary Journal, The Hunger Journal and others. Her first novel Dolls Behaving Badly was published by Hachette Book Group and her memoir will be published this fall by Raised Voice Press. www.cinthiaritchie.com
