18

Mountain Love

The mountain was steep,
With clouds of pink.
The rocks rolled past me.
I wanted to think.

The air was thin,
But there she laid.
I thought it was worth
The trip I made.

I halfway carried her
Body of divinity,
Soft and delicate,
Such femininity.

My foot slipped, I fell
Into the air.
She could have caught me.
I saw her stare.

My eyes said "Help me."
I opened my eyes, the room was still.
A note: My love moves on.
She always will.
She didn't know the fall would kill.

Richard C. Hayner
1970 ©

© 2001 Middle Sea Studios - Richard C. Hayner - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED