Untitled

 

I am at a place where the hawks and vultures 

Circle on thermals well below me. I hear the sound 

Of their wings through the air. I see the horizon fifty,

A hundred, miles away, the mountainous ridges

Becoming bluer and bluer, fainter and fainter,

As they recede, and I feel a sense of serenity

Almost unknown to me. They call this place Arkansas.

I don't know the meaning of the word,

I'm not sure I want to know. I am on a mountain

Named by french explorers Mount Magazine.

I arrived a day ago, I will leave in the morning.

I will leave the serenity behind, but I'll remember

That it's here, and maybe someday return

And enjoy it again, for a day, or maybe two.





Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2015-05-03 at 00:16

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Nicely done, Jim. There seems to be something satisfying about looking out and over. I've seen feral cats and groundhogs do it in my back yard. I do it. There aren't any mountains on my horizon, but just looking out into the distance, "taking the long view," can keep me in place for hours.
2015-05-03


countryfog
Reading this I thought of a line of William Stafford - "I place my feet carefully in such a world," and picture you doing no less. You conveyed perfectly the serenity you felt and the gratitude for simply being there.

My understanding is that Arkansas was derived by the French from a Sioux word meaning "downstream people."
2015-05-03


Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
What a great thing to do. You must have been so at peace with the landscape and understanding of nature and what it means to us. Thanks for sharing.
2015-05-03


Åsa Andersson
How I miss mountains! Living on flat mudlands is... flat.
2015-05-03


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
If you need company, I'm your man!
2015-05-03