MOUNTAIN MIST

when the sea drops clear away
the past happens
iron jaws close in

autumn
comes easily
to the high country

caught at the head of the valley
the air rarefied
a raw presence

shale covers
the old tracks on the mountain ridge
light and birdsong

filter through the leaves
remote cabins welcome
the forward trampers

while the wind cracks
the stragglers in half
adrift

with only echoes for company
the skies begin to weep
slow tears on the mountain

SUMMER WEDDING

at the outdoor wedding
the poet who refuses
to believe in time
plunges through a window
and slashes his hand
across the harp

what results is not music
but a passionate desecration
of a moment which,
like a photograph
in its effort to fix us,
excludes us from our past

the poet is the enemy
of the photograph
as he balks about his appearance
in the group
he assaults the image
with words,

changing the bride's dress
into a cascade of pearls,
the bridegroom's top hat
into a cat on a chimney
and the waiting cars into
a camel train across the Silk Road

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