A Sermon on the Mount From where we started, Dogs on our heels, It was a beacon of convergence, Remote and certain as geometry Now its slant imposed A levy on our musculature and will Our pack grew quieter, less attached, The several bent on speed Lost or invisible, the rest of us Simply watching our step When you drew me away from the others To that unsheltered cleft facing back, Was it for the view – Below so lush, the snakelike valley, So pacific from above, Enough to make us forget why we left – Or for your angle On the phantom pleasure, As the cold set in, Of arms ________________________________________________________________________ Emanuel E. García, 2014 |