i awoke today
and stood outside
enthralled by the familiar
distant mountain.
consistent, unmoving
beautiful in her winter garb.
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then i saw movements
slight in the trees across her breast.
and with a groan
the mountain top shuddered and let go
sweeping before it the detritus of broken pine
and boulders the size of houses.
until the mass came to rest
in the glen at her feet.
clouds of billowing snow
hanging in the air.
after the briefest stillness,
a silence, sudden, deep and alarming,
broken only by the wind
in the shadows and my focused breathing,
there arose a keening.
i looked to find
circling above the high country,
where tears of rock and trunk
had stained the mountain’s face,
their razor sharp eyes
searching the rent forest
that had graced her skirt,
two red tailed hawks.
