Sailboat Mountain
Percolating from the dream...
This time, it is sailboats (three of them).
Making their way up a mountain pass.
Brightly colored sheets swallowed by clouds.
That could be mistaken for seagulls.
The incline is nightmarishly steep.
Can't tell if there's anyone at the helm.
The pass is silver and soundless-a passage so profound.
I can't see what's at the pinnacle.
That's where the percolating stops...
Maybe just a shipyard of cracked boats.
A pile of rocks that dream in a tombstone.
Perhaps God kneading a clap of golden thunder...
I've been dreaming of mountains lately.
Maybe it's past time to start climbing.
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