Falling Man & The Mountain**

The gathering of stones grew
the higher I climbed,
I could climb no more
realizing too late
the mountain would never touch your sky.
~~~
Never meant as invasion,
just some coffee and hi.
Maybe talk some about
the Birch and Oak
down by the small stream;
or the way wild marigolds told
of their sun soaked scent;
and how long ago our youth was spent
star gazing from our grand mother’s porch.
Your’s from a small town in Italy;
mine from the country side of Pennsylvania.
~~~
While I will climb no more,
I am not sorry for the journey
as it was made honestly
like the wind, Spring touched,
as it whispers through the valley
bringing green grass and clover.

Aztec Warrior 1.15.16

NOTE: I wrote this poem after reading Nagi’s poem (“High Value”)
and Vicki’s poem (“the moss and the moon”). Both poems spoke to me and inspired this poem of introspection, since I have been chasing “skies”
and am in need of a “waning moon”... Thanks Nagi. Thanks Vicki.
Your poetry truly does inspire. So I hope I have not in any way
disrespected you or your poetry.