December 31, 2009

B236. The lip of the world

is the wind of God
pouting snow on a mountaintop.
I would like to climb so I might
turn the corners of the mouth to the sun's
smiling laughter running back down
the straw of our
gravity, holding me to the mountain,
drawing back the level walking, holding waters

of our thirst.

Climb the wind's lip, adjust, focus, recognize

their parting, where the sounds make song.

Posted by nancy at December 31, 2009 11:05 PM
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