Dru Philippou

Fire Finders

lone light
from a lantern 
a sea of peaks

Struck by lightning, fire lookout Victor Ortega died on Canjilon Mountain in 1924. The one-room cabin where he lived with his family is the oldest surviving lookout in the Southwest. Though the wooden tower he once manned has weathered away and its beams lie forgotten in a pile, Ortega’s presence lingers. The wind whispers his name and flickers of light dart among trees. 

cloud bound...
ties to the world
slip by

A century later, I stand on Ortega’s mountain, watching the Indios Fire near Coyote. Smoke swirls skyward, a deep charcoal hue, lit by fiery flashes of red and orange. I recall Gary Snyder, the first poet–fire lookout, who inspired many other writers to follow in his footsteps. Immersed in nature, his poetry was influenced by the moods of the weather and the intricate dance of wildlife. His words, shaped from stone, hail, and wind, gathered like seeds, birthing Zen-infused verses nurtured by meditation and the dharma.

summer stars...
veils of silence
                     fall

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About the Author

Dru Philippou lives in northern New Mexico, where hiking in the desert wilderness nourishes her spirit and her writing. Her haibun “Afterlife” won first place in the Haiku Society of America’s 2021 Haibun Awards. Also, her haibun “Pilgrimage” won first place in 2023 in the same contest. She is the author of A Place to Land, a tanka prose memoir.

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