Sunday, February 14, 2010

Mt. Baldy

What did L. Cohen see

From the peak at Mt. Baldy?

Did he see the mist and horizon

A ski lift and mountain bar?

Pale-faced angels

Fat children hurling snowballs?

When his mind pondered eternity

Was he distracted by spinning tires?

The ground shines metallic

With wanderers in mufflers and sunshades

A ground so bright it splits open your eyes;

Bright like the epiphanies of L. Cohen?

A flash of awareness beneath the disgust

Drowns my vision

All the motes are swallowed

In the blank white expanse.

I glimpse what Cohen saw:

An irradiating silence.

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