She says a mountain rose beyond
which she could climb in solitude
though she seldom did
she says she was
astounded by a wave deep and blue
as an August afternoon she traversed
a battlefield of upturned trees
their roots clutching tremendous
earth-packed sockets
tangled as lovers’ limbs she says
a narrow pathway runs along the cliffs
above an ocean where one might sit
for hours in rustling grasses counting
the plumes of whales coming up for air
she says her orange tree is in bloom
once more hundreds
of hopeful faces glowing beneath
a full moon undeterred by prospects
of drought or marauding racoons
(c) 2020 by Hannah Six
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