We rest on the ridge
to shed
our scarves, coats,
and sweater knits.
Below, highlands
unravel like ribbon,
and copper copses
whisper
to blushing maple
thickets.
Cattle dot
the parceled fields,
embellishing
brisk with
monochrome moos
and noisy chew.
We watch two hikers
retrace our steps,
scrambling up
steep ribbon dips.
It looks as though
the tawny earth
could
swallow them whole,
enfold them in stones,
crisp gold,
and soft soil.
From our perch,
the strangers are
sentient slivers.
All it takes is
a mile
of climb
to rescale
the mind-
To simplify
entire lives,
until we’re
scrambling specks
on a hillside.
pm poetry 