Posts Tagged ‘Bristled bones of stone and ice’

There are those who live in valleys,

Where the mountains stretch behind,

Tall, quiet, and majestic and – – –

(Dare one write?) sublime.


Peaks that pierce a distant sky,

Teeth in a cross-cut saw,

Fitted with ermine caps,

Snow that doesn’t thaw.


Valley dwellers bound to schedules,

Men who each day run,

From assignment to assignment,

From pre-dawn to nighted sun.


Such valley men and maidens see –

See mountains (if seen at all),

As a backdrop for the foothills,

See them as borders, as a wall.


They’re serrated separations

From the nearest neighbor vale;

Bristled bones of stone and ice,

Boundaries to each valley’s tale.

          – eab, Apr. ‘01

Read Full Post »