On Snoqualmie Pass

Through the windshield, Mt. Baker rises,
cut from construction paper
with safety shears--
virtually ripped at the summit--
and pasted askew
to slate gray matting.

Only momentary,
at 70 miles per hour,
this preschool art project

Reveals that I am a round jar--
cracked and weathered by the wilderness--
for no other reason
than I have been written so.