Poetry and Writes

Mountain and Mist (POEM)

A dark shadow strokes
The face of the mountainside
As the rain begins to fall
Streaming in rock gullies
And bathing the stones blue.

A boy hunches against the bite
Of the wind that howls along the outcrops.
The rain lets to mist, blooming
And wreathing the rocks
In saturated surrealism,
And the boy walks through it all.

He feels like a lord in a fantasy
As he steps along the brink
Of the mountainside,
Slicked in rain and crumbling.

He comes to a wide aerial peninsula
A stone frozen at the start of ascension.
He sees a figure there, parting
The mist where she stands
A beautiful actress on a
Dream-scene stage, the mist
Whispering an audience's
Lazy predictions.

The boy approaches the girl.
He tells her his name.
He is a boy of the mountainside
And she is a girl of the fog.

She says on other days she'd
Be flying, but she ran out
Of pixie dust.

She says the rain swept it away,
Into the alpine earth, and she'll
Never grow her wings again.
Maybe if she jumped they'd
Unfold, last-resort buoyancy
In case of an emergency.

The boy takes her hand
And leads her along the perilous
Path, to the home on the mountainside
That grounded him, oh so long ago.

NOTE: Haven't put a note for a while. Thanks for reading, is all I have to say!

--KingfisherBirdLady