Of Mountain Things

Baptized in the eddies of shimmering creeks passages are crossed far beyond what's seen clothes pin dolls donning hand sewn clothes souls made of papyrus ,hearts carved in oak mountain folk know things that you'll never know A few stay forever and others stray for "things" hymns on gilded meadows -a vow to never leave the sun offers heartbeat to all wayward beings but she's a fiery star riding razor bladed dreams One day she took off down the lower path a clothes pin doll slipping gently from her hand fleeing salvation mountain, never looking back a daisy chain lay where her heart once bled Another red eyed sunrise, eve taps stiletto black she's a wingless pigeon cooing for the misty past at the end of asphalt rainbows, a mirror full of cracks a million pricks ago the starry dream simply collapsed- In concrete hearts, there's little shade for peace from which a mountain soul can gracefully retreat with a rustle of leaves she's finally called back home psalms sprinkled over ashen dreams of feral ghosts mountain folk know things that you'll never know.