Over the mountains

Never take lightly the view from a mountain top,
fragile yet soft, you are higher
You will change sight, you come here alone
still, you do not seek loneliness

bellow the morning mist hugs the mountains
the trees fade, allowing roads to cut again the valley's collarbone
footpaths for yesterday's traces, what's another mark?
this path, a statement we've passed here,
treading light and watery over earth and so will
feet after us, line
paws and hooves, living in motion

now you are on the rocks, look
down bellow, there's life- all by hand and foot of the mountain
down bellow, there's prey and fish, a feast roasting over honey
you allow yourself the thought, since you've climbed
there could be nothing bellow of celebrations-
this is how you deal with departure, blame new terrain
perhaps there's only silence bellow,
pebbles that line the short grass
some space for cereal and some rattle of rats nursing amid the stones.

Never take lightly the view from the mountain at dawn
your whisky breath rises like the mist
you hug the jeans that scratches your face, your eyes and stare
away from fallen fur, white to earth
he's shed fur before, in childhood like you did-
you don't mind the wild. the fierce make the road wider, the options safer

Over the mountains

it is the valleys that intrigue you this dawn,
wedging themselves at the meeting of mountains
out of place and low
like second nature

it is the vastness, stones and sticks God's leftovers
cans and fire circles, humans leftovers to differ nostalgia in the bones. there are dark spots this dawn, shadows uplifted
do not be fooled by light, you have been taught wrong.

you understand now
this is what death looks like
out of place and low,
like second nature
that bites with the same teeth, you feed
to sharpen.