Tuesday, January 19, 2021

#457 Tous les Jours

Up here in the mountains
it is an everyday thing
to come across vestiges of
earlier climbers &/or the oc-
casional earlier painting.
They may present as tracks
in the earth or discarded
equipment. Sometimes as
ghosts or holograms. Stare 
at the latter for long enough 
& they sometimes become 
embarrassed, begin to speak. 
In a thin voice that still  
sparks echoes, this one says: 
"I was once the star of The 
Age of Enlightenment. Now 
the world has forgotten
me. Am I not still beautiful?" 

No comments: