Mountainous

the peak is an old acquaintance
who seems to be wise

and say little
against the snow

to a man who lacks
the ears for it

seems to offer a way
to not understand

Ice Prism

This comes and goes: missing mountains wrapped in nothing but fog. You remember your very first winter: icicles brittle in the trees, new friends warning— Don’t go out in this kind of cold with your hair still wet from the shower. It was oddly beautiful to picture. A glass piano. Your head, a forest unhusked, …

Mountains

I am always looking for mountains. Where I am, the fingers of the estuary mix fresh and salt water. Along strips of highway, furniture stores and short- term car rentals hum with their own kind of static impatience. In summer, ships make a procession into the bay, their flags furling the colors of countries elsewhere. …