Wednesday, March 12, 2014

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.

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