Four Peaks

Every morning, right on time, the sky
drops the four peaks back
where they had been the day before, out
beyond the end of the street
with first light climbing
breathless up the side invisible
from here. They chafe
a red-tail’s wings
as he flies over them. It must be possible
to see, from their highest
points, the crooked path that runs
through a life
and keeps on going in pursuit
of the great and unassailable
truths. Foxes live there. Bears. Some
bobcats and the mice
that owls hunt after dark. It’s cold there
now, all stars and silence.
It’s where wishes go
to be considered before being granted
or not. You want a better world?
Climb and keep climbing,
then look down. The one you started out
from is the only one
there is.

 

David Chorlton
Illustration: Claire Palmer


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