I picked up my bottle from Terrain 14 in Spokane. It now resides at my home in Spokane Valley on a cluttered shelf next to others
A cork punched tight
into the neck
held back the whiskey
which swirled around
a bottle tucked
carefully
in the back
of a westward wagon
pulled
by a sturdy team,
urged on by a man
with a rough beard
and rough clothes
through unfamiliar scrubland
and mountain passes
coveted and known only by
those first peoples.
The amber bottle
may be stowed
away
in the back, but
it is still at the forefront
of the settler’s mind-
tonight’s reward for
hours in the pounding sun
along dusty trails
where scenes
of future empires rising
from placer mines
and rugged fur trading
outposts
play out
on the hazy screen
of his prophetic
imagination.
The dream begins in
the tiny town
of Spokan Falls
on the edge of the mapped
world
where fur and
minerals and
timber
converge and possibilities sprout
like mountain pines.
The whiskey is
the last
thing he unpacks.
A lick of the lips,
a squeak of the cork,
and it begins to flow.
With the alcohol’s first burn
behind him like
his thoughts
about what might
have been used to
color
the whiskey (perhaps
a twist of tobacco
or a few
drops of molasses
if he was lucky),
the pulls increase
in frequency
until clear skies and
bright stars
confess
an empty bottle.
But it’s still early,
and with one more tip
back and
a gentle toss
the bottle is discarded
into an outhouse
where it settles into
sludge and
God knows what,
until it is later buried,
covered under
feet of earth
as the outhouse is moved
to a newer location.
Perhaps a hundred years later,
as the settler’s dreams
solidify,
materialize,
and a chance probe
of a backhoe
into dank soil
reveal a machine operator’s
surprised look and
discards of an earlier time,
a trove of preserved relics
in an earthen
agglomeration.
I place the bottle
on my shelf;
imperfections dot the glass
and stretch marks mar the neck
of this
heavy hand-blown
bottle.
It is home now
on the shelf
with others like it.
For the second time
it has come
to a rest,
another pause
in its story.
Gruis
02/2024