Elk Mountain

Cruising the thermals,
hawks crown the summit
of Elk Mountain
and joy feeds on us,
sticks to the bottoms of our shoes,
brushes the hair back from our faces,
croons lullabies and symphonies
to the muscles stretching
up the steep path.
Joy teaches us secrets,
and the blessing is
that I remember so many,
that I can close my eyes
and seven counties bloom
behind my eyelids,
joy breathes blue lizards
sunning on granite
blinking and
joy breathes my son
running easily ahead and
I will always be here and
I will always be climbing and
joy will feed on me
and feed me
and teach me Elk Mountain
in the eternal present tense,
available at will.
Do not forget me.

"You may forget but
let me tell you
this: someone in
some future time
will think of us"
-- Sappho


Copyright © 2001 by Karen Thompson

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