Suffers in the cold — the fog
Fades hills to white
Shimmered bright and brief, hiding
The cold truth
phalaris spears guard water,
wings reach the table:
an empty plate, cold coffee —
this beak hunts crumbs.
A cool hill breeze.
Windows close. Heaters glow red
To stretch out summer.
Copper and cobalt,
The sky-mares dance, invisible
Except cloud tails
Pools between platforms — attracts
Birds and dragonflies
The cold comes first
To far hills. Fog fading
Trees, grass, into rain
Once mine, were mountains. Ah, I climbed so high
And on the summit stood; but stood alone:
All bright and mighty for a world of eyes.
My eyes saw only what I could not own
A sudden glance! a soft and tender word!
You shook and sunk me, and I crawled ashore
Shivering. Vowing, loud to all that heard
I'd spurn the mountains for a few words more.
A touch, in mine, of cool and calloused hand —
A fellow climber. So my eyes ascend
By pack and pole, by scrapes of scree and sand
To meet — to match — the gaze that you intend
Our love is locked. From here, to far away,
No force can part us, save the TSA
The pillars stand — guard
Tall staircase and glass wall
From dead, dry leaves