© G. V. 01-20-2013 All rights reserved(Iambic tetrameter)
A lone Alpine walks on the crest,
the cap becomes his silent friend,
close to unseen bold eagles' nest,
on basalt rock of the montagne.
The air transmits dispersed his words,
down grassy earths' deep watersheds,
along the brow, but he's not heard.
where fierce the gusts cut souls to shreds.
And there in cold, amid the winds,
the mountain man stares up to stars,
to steep escarpments and crag-ridge,
the blue caresses his life's scars.
A lone Alpine flies from the cairn,
of the volcanic iced montagne,
the winds in crags transmit concern,
for his surreal flight to campagne.
And flying he sings along the brae,
his voice deflects on slopes to cling,
while solitude will wear today,
her carved betrothal sapphire ring.
© G. V. 01-20-2013