On the mountain’s
jagged edge, notched
for canyon passage,
beneath the clouds
there sets a space
open to the far horizon for
blue and light to chase
the drear back over my shoulder
and out across the plains.
This reminds me
to do at least two things; one,
to find within
old fears of all once
thought so right and real
and heavy in
my consciousness, and two, to
build a cairn of them
before I go.
