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Poem	all is still on this starless night the mountain waits quiescent as a cat smoothing crag and chasm to a white fur then against the black sky puffs of snow flutter from a jutting cliff into obscurity a drumroll utters from the mountain's throat and stops reprehended by a silence so intense that even night seems shallow in its presence high up a front of snow crumples and cascades down plashing from rock to rock spawning further falls echoing itself to dotage in the sharp hills and again the wound of silence bleeds about the mountain again the grumbling drumroll a giant peak staggering with ice suddenly sags and booming like a cry sprawls into a gully tumbles blind with spray lurches bounces dizzily jazzing downwards in the outraged night now it roars and crashes through the squawking snow lunges smashes into crest and crag devours ridges pitches over cliffs bursts tremendously through gaps now booms and rebooms thunders and rethunders as in its rapid shapes it plunges wildly down rifts instantly appear and craters fill - crags snap off like fingers - boulders fly and down and down within its own created turmoil of demented spray still accumulating speed this daft fantastic mass white-hot with bitter rage thrashes seethes explodes until before some obdurate cliff face or deep in a ravine it hurls itself at last indifferently to death and then there is this silence too hurt too solid a thing to bear beside the foaming mountain
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