Mountain Town
by Mary Meriam
(Sonnet for Susan de Sola)
Dear morning moon above
the crumbling stairs
a precious book
a landing where I raise
my eyes to see you,
make me understand
the steps to take to you
here in the trees
the tiny castle built
of old gray stone
the stairs so steep and cracked
the day so young
the doors still locked I wait
I breathe
I find
the shadow of the biggest tree
for shade.
Another trip,
across the morning sky
a jet drags two thin streams
of ghostly cloud
a path I think you take
so far above me.
Inevitable flower blooms
alone
naked, pink, and tall:
one Naked Lady.
I read and borrow
borrow, read
return.