Bottling Mountain’s Wind

I wish I could capture how the wind feels near the summit of
Mount Monadnock
As baldness rises above trees
Leaving wind to it’s own device
Each hair on my arm
Probably like a fish in the sea
Unaware that this is different
Now knowing air as it should be

And the smell, too, like pines inviting holiday into my spirit.

And the feet snapping chirp of
The hopper sneaking past
Zephyr’s surge in my good ear.

If only I could bottle this in poetry
I could then die and join
The pantheon of greats
But until, I will keep climbing
Like Emerson or Thoreau
Until what I have done
Is good enough
To pass.

3 thoughts on “Bottling Mountain’s Wind

  1. blindzanygirl says:

    Oh YES. That mountain air. You have written about this in such an original way. Brings back memories for me. And what you have done IS giid enough to do far mire than pass!

    Liked by 1 person

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