Naming Mountains

The peaks around here look down
across the patched blanket of fields and forests
seeing all and seeing what lies beyond
the time of men and small shadows.

They see their own faces,
they know their own names
without being told:

Loowit of the lost sylvan shoulders,
Wy’ east of the pendant throat,
Klickitat of the white fox fur coat.

What maps know is what mountains forget
in the blink of a winter’s eye,
the storms washing their faces of any misgivings.

7 responses to “Naming Mountains

  1. Melissa Shaw-Smith

    Ah, the mysteries of mountains–an endless source of wonder to me. Nicely put!


  2. What mountains forget. Today’s koan.


  3. Reblogged this on Mist and Mold and commented:
    Burl pierces the heart of living with, and naming, mountains. The first people who came here to stay learned the mountain names from the mountains themselves. As I sit I wonder, “what do mountains forget?”


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