I was at the top of
the mountain, standing
on its auburn and muted
grey granite plateau.
The birch trees bloated the valley’s belly
and slid onto the cattle’s plains.
I closed my eyes and
stood like Christ the Redeemer:
Until the rumble came.
It jiggled the belly of the valley
and screamed to the mountain.
The leaves on the trees quivered
as the being brushed passed.
I heard its steps getting closer
to the edge of the mountain.
I had always heard it roam
in this forest, but I had never
heard it come at my with
I saw love growing in hunger
to devour my heart.