In the White Mountains
A Poem by John Grey
Above the tree-line,
the climb.
breath and air
never more unalike,
tufts of grass,
otherwise bare,
scattered stones
like old wise ones,
hands blue,
long legs shortening
like lungs,
looking up,
a stuttering whistle
scrambling to
the white-capped summit
in song,
a stroke of awe
anxious for a pen,
and down below,
old oaks and maples,
old world ablaze.
on a mountain ledge…
this is as far as I go…
I can climb no more
though I can write higher.
John Grey is an Australian poet, U.S. resident. He has been published in New Plains Review, Perceptions, Sanskrit, South Carolina Review, Gargoyle, Owen Wister Review and Louisiana Literature, among others.
