NIGHT ON A BARE MOUNTAIN

Time loses its way
in the dark

even I have been
erased

by what
I cannot see

unsure that I am
still me

I touch the tear
on my cheek

to reassure myself

I am: & that
the world is.

I whistle Mussorgsky
to keep a stiff upper lip

up.

Spring waits
at the top of the mountain.

I climb towards
the new dawn.