Mountain Portraiture She arrived more out of curiosity Besides, the museum was neutral turf, Plenty of excellent distractions If he didn’t show, and cool, Just perfect for a day When the humidity felt like a vise There, a gawky couple, all teeth, Thin, naïve – they moved through the exhibition Like stiff caterpillars, so slow, Back and forth, as if they couldn’t get enough, A better view, And with their youth it was impossible To see much of the mountain Whether in haze or storm or spring, Maybe they might taste the desert dust Along the road leading in, Or worm their way into a pointillistic shrub, They were so close and so together It was ludicrous, the two of them Peering at pictures like that Finally they crawled away Leaving her alone with the mountain, Lost a little in its many-sidedness – Could they really be the same? – Until the cool touch on her arm And a face she couldn’t recognise, The polished floor reflecting up Just what she wanted in the foothills After a long long day, Lithe and parched – and Why not ________________________________________________________________________ Emanuel E. García, Sojourns, 2014 |