The View From Here

by Lisa Rosen on May 8, 2013

A Poem

Greedy for the crunch of rock and sand beneath my feet, the pitch of trail, wind whispering through desert sage and dust, I yearn toward the mountains that ring the valley.

Dim and dusky, they beckon.  Shades of beige deepen, flushing violet, mauve, indigo.

Just out of reach.

The city flashes, twinkles, glitters, clamors for attention.

Look at me, she shrieks, look at me, like a ruthless toddler, a narcissistic teen, a desperate old woman, teetering on too-high heels.

The sun slides down, below the softly sharp horizon.  The mountains darken, a blue-black constant, always changing, immutable.

If I were a poet, I could capture their patience, their stoic watchfulness.

Immune to the noise, the bells and whistles and horns and braying laughter, too-loud, too-long, the mountains wait.

This, too, shall pass.

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Virginia May 8, 2013 at 3:32 pm

What a fabulous poem. And so perfect for this difficult time in my life.
You are much more of a poet that you, perhaps, realize.
Please keep it up!

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Lisa Rosen May 8, 2013 at 4:00 pm

Aw, thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it. (((hugs)))

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