The Mountain Top

The mountain always talks

but rarely does it move –

as it holds it ground

like emotions held tight.

 

Steep howls –

cliffs, with juts and overhangs

words on the edge of a mouth

which just protrude
but never sing. 

Trees, that dance

and rocks ~ ~

that make the water play –

caves that hold the solitude

and bare scraggy tops

who know the stories

when young was young

and old –

has no meaning…

as it’s just another day

on the mountain top.