Solo Female Hiking Is Just Walking
So I walk five miles to see what remains Of the ice age then another mile to camp To see what remains of my resolve I am still I’m not surprised at all to discover Small The first person to tell me happy birthday In the hostel I chose because a woman owned it And because it’s my birthday Was Karen with the old injury A broken leg that hurt her less at elevation So she retired to elevation Good morning, birthday girl! She spoke like a woman with children I was grateful like a daughter Like any river the Rio Grande When I finally really swam in it was cold And sharp and easy to imagine Washing me meaninglessly away And maybe because it’s my birthday I would rather live a long life But I’d settle for an end without actual violence Thirst’s impersonal collaboration with time Lung with river water Where I am small isn’t the same as I am nothing High and dry In the empty lakebeds of this old earth Where I walk through every corner of its turning air alone Even with this body Healthy though I am Able and grateful I wear a red whistle I bought for the city And have never tested Worried it’ll pierce the ear of some Nearby honest animal I save it for the emergency I keep alert to keep from ever meeting Though in doing so somewhere some other good woman comes to harm Statistically speaking Not nearly all of us will walk away without paying Though we do not owe Ourselves or the bodies that bear us That bear our children headfirst Into terrible odds To any man I have no children Still each time I learn a new way to be more fully in the world without fear I promise to teach my daughter It is possible to learn to be more fully in the world Without fear And if she’s a boy To teach him to honor her step Most when it looks like defiance