the northern mountain and parting with an old friend
I walk to the edge of town,
but there is no edge. The city
inches outwards, newly constructed
roads cover tumultuous fields. I pause
beneath an overpass to drink
some water. A man stands at
the edge of the road. He looks
at the mountain, and discards
his bottle next to the others.
I take a picture to remember
the edge of the road, you still
hear the river that runs beside it
and see the woman washing her clothes.
At the river’s dam, I once stood and
took a picture, and now remember
that I was once here, I was once alive.
Here I managed to find reprise
from my bike ride, and a bridge
to drink some water beneath.
I hopped back on my bike,
looked at the trash pile, and
pedaled past the man and his
bottle. The mountain became
liberated as the man and I
no longer stood beside it.
