by Gideon Burton
Again the grandeur, craggy canyon steep
with walled antiquity, with wintered time,
with pressures muted, violence in heaps
of silent folded rock face misaligned.
Again the cracking ashen dome whose wet
persistence chisels granite, limestone. Damp
with Autumns aggregating subtle threats
as Winters clutch the stones with icy clamps.
Again the slow erosion. Nothing holds
the crumbling running out of sandy night.
Despite the shivering toward a cold
conclusion, nothing, nothing shades that light
That sun returning, shaking off the covers,
The warming sky, the shuddering of lovers.
Photo: flickr - snowpeak
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