Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Passing Mount Hood

The road goes higher through a tight
repetition of tall green-black furs.
The sun breaks cover to spotlight
neon green moss, clinging
to a high cascade of fallen rock.
Then an opening of glowing
red and gold deciduous trees.

Coming around a curve,
the white mountain
in all its spectral hugeness,
icy blue pinnacles,
creaking glaciers,
trails, avalanches,
a mountain that
made all the local land.

Beyond the pass,
ever smaller furs
then none at all. 
A mesa with scrub fields,
Indian horses.
The dry side.
Still the mountain.
This all belongs to it.


  1. What a beautiful vision you paint here. I feel like I am turning the corner and seeing it with you. Beautiful!

  2. I love the mountains. I live in WV where we have beautiful views but those western mountains are so rugged and beautiful they take my breath. Lovely poem, Lorna

  3. Lorna, this is lovely. So happy to see you writing to my prompt. I especially love this part:

    "red and gold deciduous trees."


  4. nice...i have taken that familiar territory for me, though it has been like 14 years....

  5. This is gorgeous. I just checked out your profile and see that you're in Oregon, but parts of this poem remind me a little of Northern Arizona and Southern Colorado (I lived in Arizona as a little girl...and I really miss it).


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