Topography: A Poem by Eric Pinder

By Eric Pinder



Shadows slink east, stealing pieces
of our afternoon in swift, dark gulps.

Wind gnaws granite, hungrily.
Thirsty streams lick the wrinkles carved
by seasons’ saws until the hills
which once spread shade
afar at sunrise shrivel
and withdraw.

Daedalus knew this, yet still he launched
himself across the sand at Sicily,
running barefoot with the flotsam
of fallen mountains glued
between his toes by the blood
of Mount Etna.

Eric Pinder is the author of a book of nature writing, North to Katahdin, as well as several books for children, including If All the Animals Came Inside and How to Share with a Bear. He lives frugally among the moose in the deep, dark woods of New Hampshire and teaches creative writing at the New Hampshire Institute of Art. Find him online at, and follow him on Twitter at @EricPinder.

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