The Maynard
Spring 2018

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Orography

The mountain range of my father’s shoulders
my brother’s trim inheritance. Drives east on Hwy 1
to Nordegg, a true-blue ghost town seated in explosion,
fire, and coal’s demise. My brother lugs jerry cans

of cow blood and oil to lure Albertan grizzlies,
swindles them of tawny kills for snatches of hair
on barbed wire. Over centuries, bears pace the paths
of their ancestors—which of our lot first diverged

from heritage? Caroused in mud, the Ford 150 clips
over fatigued asphalt that fulfills our fascination
with being anywhere but here. When the hamlet
is briefly renamed Brazeau, only Nordegg post office

dissents, is there and not there. From home comes
news: an overdose, the fire hall repainted red.