Mountain Folk Tale

It was chilly up the mountain.

There the man used to have a long beard,
& as he walked his long hair
used to touch the ground.

Once in a while a woman went to see him,
they made love quietly, the world
below alien, cold, distant & grey.

The man would bring the logs for the fire;
the woman smelled of dew
and the river when it’s spring.

The clouds were like wallpaper
with the colour of pale rocks.

To talk they didn’t use words;
they used their eyes instead.

It was chilly up the mountain,
but all they wore were their own skins.

Time passed. She moved in.
He lost his hair & lost the beard.

Time passed. No one else would come
& see them. They lived in happy silence.

One day, the debt collector passed by.
They lost the house and all.

Mountain Folk Tale

The folk below told tall tales
of a crazed & saddened hermit,

that his cry could still be heard
in cold November nights.

No one knew where the woman
went to, nor when she left:

it is known, among the peoples of the North,
that the mountain has her shape.

Sometimes the earth trembles.