by Katharine Burke, Norway
A half a mountain- Shear jagged rock face Meets me when I venture out From home now. The other half Was blasted into boulders And ground into gravel To form the road I now travel on And I wonder What was worth A straighter line from here to there? So unbelievably unnecessary: A half a mountain for a half a minute’s travel. How does one measure a mountain? Memories and mystery Your centuries of secrets Disemboweled in moments Yet still so imposing In your stark breakage and loss And so I have made a little ritual Of bowing hand to heart As I greet you on my journey Holding space Carrying grief for you (and me). I never knew how much I loved you Until we lost you Or how much I needed you Until you were gone.
