Today's guest is Flagstaff-based poet Larry Stevens. He is perhaps best known for his 50-year career as an ecologist and Grand Canyon river runner. According to Stevens, inspiration and insight for his poetry often occurs while exploring Arizona's diverse and ancient landscapes. He shares a piece called “Dinosaurs, Snow”.
Larry Stevens: I am passionate about scientific work, working on the interactions between water, a changing Earth, and life. As I do this, I sometimes find myself in a light-bulb or epiphany-like state. And since so much energy, words, and music seem to flow from the oddities of life, I approach those inspirations with a pencil in hand. Inspiration may not be very coherent, what comes out of it may not be very coherent, and subsequent editing will take time. But I respect those moments.
dinosaur, snow
dinosaur, snow,
Bones and children scattered in a million ways
Or the sycamore leaves on the baseball field by the river.
There I found a footprint similar to the one in Chinley Shale, but smaller.
Fan – 3 cuts, webbed pigeon toes;
My steps are short and clumsy, and I come to a halt as I melt away.
As if it was my first time walking and it was awkward.
And they didn't get along.
They returned to the water.
Permo-Triassic foot,
The lucky ones who are blessed with talent break out of the mud of the limbic system.
Towards improvement without realizing it,
beauty, love, reason, truth,
sneakers,
But evolution isn't just a game (which we are, thank you).
Through each Cretaceous increase, for each codon,
almost connected
It's not a mistake that I don't remember at all, but
Like the footsteps of a naked old man
As I come up the stairs in the dark hallway,
The day's many chores were finally done.
Like the Miocene
The era of common dreams of the flock
and a distant hometown
Where onlookers left our footprints in the swamp and watched the planes;
The rotation took us out of their sight and left this moment,
Our consciousness is now (that moment never arrived, but it was an accident that happened too soon).
They raise their cars honking from the willow trees in the purple dusk,
Standing up and turning without resting,
I hear sounds through my wings
To tell them to the sky,
“Okay, you can go home now.”
But tonight the voice does not speak to them, and the winter continues.
they return to earth
And leave a set of trampled dinosaur footprints for another night
In the snow at the baseball stadium along the river.
Larry Stevens is an ecologist, longtime Grand Canyon river runner, and poet. He directs his Institute for the Stewardship of Springs, a Flagstaff nonprofit that focuses on improving the scientific understanding and management of spring ecosystems. He recently completed a collection of poems celebrating the interface between earth, water, and life.
Poetry Snaps is produced by KNAU Arizona Public Radio and airs on the first and third Friday of each month.
About the host:
Steven Law is co-producer of KNAU's series PoetrySnaps! He is a poet, essayist, storyteller, and author of the following books: polished, A collection of poems about exploring the Colorado Plateau on foot or by raft.
About the music:
Original music by a Flagstaff-based band pilcrow.
