Hand Mountain
The mountain is now made up of hands
the meek huddle under the shelter of the moon
an effected lake brings snow too soon
staring across the mountain sands
I trust the ache in my gut to be righteous
sweat begins to condensate on my brow
rumours abound in my self conscience
i know everything, but nothing now
the mountain lady pursues me for my skill
i tread across the beaten path of hands
like the harsh shriek of the electric trill
i have overloaded my sweat glands
"the task is upon you, young man"
the mountain lady said as I ran.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
