To entertain
means to be starkers
and dance with veils,
to exoticize war
and tremble in
a thousand rhythms.
Bejeweled as a spy,
nevertheless,
don't know why.
Eye of the day,
and a dozen matchlocks
had me inertly settle
upon my knees,
before bending at my waist
to take one last look
at the fiery heavens.

I awake with cloudy eyes
on unfamiliar limbs
as if walking for the first time,
as if walking forever
down the stairs to river
then upward to become the other
blue peak beneath our quilt.
Each a snow capped prominence.
Each with it’s own lofty view of the world

while the wind howls between.

Into that echoing emptiness
a dog leaps.

Blessed nestling reminder
that even mountains
can turn and touch.