The White Mountains

There are whole countries

being born and dying above us

mountains building and valleys crumbling

dissolving in floods and storms

invisible winds

clumps of air like roman bricks

no warning

seagulls for citizens

and shafts of white light

who explore the downy slopes

finally teetering off round edges to their demise

in murky depths below

dreams dashed on earth’s unbelieving.

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2 Comments on “The White Mountains”

  1. Mary says:

    so beautiful Annie, I’ll read this a few more times now to soak in it a bit more.

  2. Susan Scutti says:

    really truly exquisite, Annie! you’re an artist through and through

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