Mt. Hood

The mountain is there for me

it gives me my sight while I walk

south on a north-south road west of it

turning my head over my left shoulder

to see that the snow is still there

and it is

 

It phases through seasons and skies

Mt. Hood on a clear night in winter

throws blue-white onto black like a star

Mt. Hood on a clear day in spring

is like a snowbank sitting proud in the grass

a stark and improbable survivor

 

This vantage point belies its height

down here we have starbucks in the ditch

and that curse of same disregard to which

everyplace now conforms, laid under the

same road, same logo, same lack

so I am afraid to see it stand and loom

is it this far in, is it this present?

maybe it's an illusion, and the mountain

has pulled up its roots and gone

to what better worlds remain