Edge

The beauty of a sunset along the Appalachian gaps

reminds me that I wish no one ill

Yet then its shining point annoys

I squint

and the glare strains my soul

I shout

“go hide in the valley and die out”

no patience

no presence

and in that breath

I have struck an edge

from life to death

Commute

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Bags in hand

carried out 

up front with doors shut 

seated for the daily performance

Invariable anxiety 

among the hosted caravan

some more polite than others.

Mirrors shoulder high 

from the corners reflecting 

the auburn and pink rising

behind and brightly announcing 

the commuting of the day. 

Photo courtesy of Somber by Sunrise

Hug

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The mountains hug forgotten ones

Souls known in gestures centuries old.

Wonderfully wild and high enough

where clouds can wet their tears and soften edges

All in breathless upward climb in rhythm find

a peaceful soul

and a memory, union sweet.

Then falling down in gasps of fear darker turns and twists

My footing gone

the mountain moves

in outward reach

– embrace.