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| Mountain/Man The long range mountains rise dark and stark and lonely above the highway. The highway--winding, twisting, weaving like a snake--crawls blindly around the base of towering peaks. On a dark, rainy afternoon, the mountains are glowering ghosts. Fog, drifting upwards, casts a mysterious aura. I shiver as if immersed in a Gothic novel. What will happen next? Will the villain jump out with flowing cape and shimmering sword? Through dissipating fog, snow glistens, revealing fleeting glimpses of eternal winter atop ancient summits; snow that never melts. Sun, breaking through angry clouds, sends dazzling rays momentarily, before spitefully retiring for the day. Shadows, dark green and purple, shift and jump. Now black. Now still. Swallowing daylight in the blink of an eye. Up, up they rise. Mountains undaunted by darkness, rain, snow, or me. You remind me of those mountains; your grim granite exterior unyielding and solemn. Icy scorn--battling blatant desire--flits across a face of stone. Craggy hollows. Hidden Valleys. Undisguised resentments. Remote and inaccessible, you reign in self-made solitude. A mountain mired in mystery. An Island steeped in silence. A loner alone; a lover unloved. What will make you topple? |
| Summer camp Camping that summer for the first time I learned how to build a latrine, how to make S'Mores and how not to cry when red-hot marshmallows burned my tongue. To take in stride the teasing and taunting when a monstrous shadow on the tent at 3am snorting and pawing the ground had me wake the whole Campground with screams of "dinosaur!" The poor cow--more scared than I--didn't get to finish her dinner |
| Windows Vacant windows, stripped of their calico curtains sadness dripping down their shattered panes. Remembering peals of gusty laughter before the mines and the men and the gold vanished. |
| Vision X-rays reveal broken bones but fail to show scars that linger long after the breaks heal. |
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