—From “Rainier” by Kris Johnson
that all summer long threatens to killmy father. Swallow him in the pale blue
Emmons, crush him beneath an avalancheor send him sliding down the Kautz –
his crampons falling on pre-dawn ice.
This mountain I love will one day knock
on the door of my mother’s home,
unearth the graves of my relatives
and carry hyacinths and coffins
down the Duwamish, out into the Sound.