Photo by Dave Hoefler
Invisible Mountain
Kiev Rattee
The mountain you expected
is missing. It’s lost
in the gray beyond the front door.
You know its shape, a hip laid sideways
descending to the leg.
It’s out there draped in mist
like your reflection in a fogged mirror.
The face you expected
is absent. It’s lost
in a haze of passing days.
You think you know its contour, the slope
of the nose, the crescent eyelids.
It’s there in the fogged mirror
crumbling stone by stone into the sink.
Kiev Rattee
The mountain you expected
is missing. It’s lost
in the gray beyond the front door.
You know its shape, a hip laid sideways
descending to the leg.
It’s out there draped in mist
like your reflection in a fogged mirror.
The face you expected
is absent. It’s lost
in a haze of passing days.
You think you know its contour, the slope
of the nose, the crescent eyelids.
It’s there in the fogged mirror
crumbling stone by stone into the sink.