III. Stone Mtn.
ἀεὶ κολοιὸς παρὰ κολοιῷ ἱζάνει
Beyond, and besides, the trailhead is marked,
with fluorescent sap, at night follows the fairies.
I saw my own hands in the dirt, my own hands!
You cannot catch the mountain fairies,
can’t wring their necks when they lead you astray.
Take a bit of the pine cone, munch it up: bleeding gums.
There is a natural world out there, rippling through
Red light, stop sign? Thundercrack? Broken branches
Littering the cobblestone? Run over by the train?
Step on the thorny vine, and let your friend pass,
An innocence about our own worth! It is all so well!
Look! To your left, black cat. Glance at one another
As fireworks go off, let’s follow it, and do no harm.
I saw the laser beams, but more impressive was the ho-hum
Of heartbeats in the summer, a first pitter patter, and joy in
Basileia tou Theou, before the sky really opened up,
Before the trees reached their claws and caught stranglers,
Before the fairies ripped moss from the stone, and
Before the black cat lapped at sap from the poison oak.
Little memories, it was a delight, from beginning to end,
Nothing is like it. At all. Eat another pine cone. This time.