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Would I could recall and savor the striking moment I came to know of mountains. Not lowland’s timid rolling hills, adorned with scant veneer of weeds, cement and green-grass lawns, but lofty pinnacles that scratch the sky with unyielding granite, against whose might the setting sun itself does daily yield— Its bluster damned in mute dismay. Yet there faintly linger, among the tangled ganglia of my mind, images and feelings… of summits gained, and all the world below, that I might behold unforgettable things, which mountains have no need to remember.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

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Date: 10/27/2013 7:13:00 PM
Hi Mark A kindred spirit for I am a Mountain man It is felt not seen Cheers Brian
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Mark Peterson
Date: 10/27/2013 8:48:00 PM
Thanks, Brian. I grew up in Utah and then lived in Colorado for decades. The mountains here in Washington are also worthy of note. I can't imagine living in Nebraska, for example. Mark
Date: 10/25/2013 8:35:00 PM
Wonderful write. Thanks for sharing.
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Mark Peterson
Date: 10/27/2013 8:52:00 PM
Jon, thanks for supporting my poetry and congrats on your lifetime status. Hopefully, I'll get there someday myself. Now at least, I'm a featured poet. Yippee! Mark