Mountains
by Joe Sullivan
Mountains are made
by people below the ground
whose eyes don't see
in normal light
With words and feelings
and hands
and a certain sourness
about their condition
The sun was never theirs
the night never held romance
the only thing left—
small details
So they fixated
and mountains were built
and were these false mountains?
In their minds they were real
as murder
as serious as granite
by people below the ground
whose eyes don't see
in normal light
With words and feelings
and hands
and a certain sourness
about their condition
The sun was never theirs
the night never held romance
the only thing left—
small details
So they fixated
and mountains were built
and were these false mountains?
In their minds they were real
as murder
as serious as granite
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Author's Note
I don't remember what inspired this. Maybe working in an office. Just wanted to write something simple.
Note: This was accepted in Ginosko Literary Review, April-May 2013.
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"and a certain sourness
about their condition"
nice
"In their minds they were real
as murder
as serious as granite"
Oooh, so much in that stanza!
*
Whew, what a poem. Faved.