A Poem For Today - Neighbors

[KEN DICKINSON]



Neighbors

These mountains do their own announcements. 

They introduce each other. One at a time

they bow. Some wander away alone

and are never heard from again, though in winter

a cloud pattern pretends to be their snow.

Most mountains have a river and keep

a forest, or even a glacier, off where no one

can follow. I had a mountain once, and even

today—usually in the evening—it breathes

when I do, quiet, a friend beyond the world.

William Stafford