Fleeting

Go back to the lime tree where it all began,
carved our names (we never want to admit it)

for the flashing black clouds trying to fight. Rain
craving comfort from the ceiling of trees–

electricity longing to reach through some nylon
fabric, no protection. Lesson one:  welcome hotels.

Sun glow, we spin through Blue Ridge tunnels,
eyes on limed ridges, sky gold and grasping hot.

Sun eyelashes—this distance, I’m not responsible for.
Mountain range, full of clandestine minerals, shadows.

I thought I needed you for change, horned creature,
you were something else to climb over, setting

the land for greens on the road.I slide along packed
dirt trails tall as the edge of the lake, devoted

to the scent of bluegrass swirled with musk, panoply
of well-hung poppies, herbs… Don’t take the gems out

of her eyes unless you want to see truth. Barriers
of atmosphere tip the peaks, they point to sparkling falls—

Lesson two: I am made of calcite dripping on the floor
of the world’s largest cave. Now that the mountain

and I cleansed our hands in twisting rivers, we see
blue veins of this country flowing through our bodies.

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