We drive past Rib Mountain,
the highest in a flat state—
sometimes fog mists
its side. Or rain
makes it look like a dark
green ship. Today
the sun, a carpenter,
builds a gold room at the top.
originally appeared in Dogwood Journal (2005)
We drive past Rib Mountain,
the highest in a flat state—
sometimes fog mists
its side. Or rain
makes it look like a dark
green ship. Today
the sun, a carpenter,
builds a gold room at the top.
originally appeared in Dogwood Journal (2005)