Mountain Souvenir

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Contributor: J. L. Smith

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We ascended the mountain
when the skies were blue,
cotton ball clouds,
no rain in sight.
Sun, warm hugs,
kisses, pet names in the dark.
You gazed into my pools,
all I saw was light.

Everyone was in a hurry to get to the top,
but I wanted to savor the beauty,
gneiss rocks under our feet.
One by one, tourists raced to the top,
a prize at stake
for whoever reached it first.
But, I didn’t care
for I was with you
and that was enough.

But, as we climbed the clouds darkened.
You wanted to climb faster,
but I held you back.
Your twisted smile betrayed you,
my first glimpse of it,
as you pulled me up.

As we reached the top,
the guide gave us the medallion:
cheap, yellow metal embossed
with the mountain’s name and date.
I looked at the clouds growing in the skies,
your tired eyes, as we started the descent,
medallion in hand:
a souvenir for me to remember:
the first time I saw you on the mountain.

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J.L. has published two collections of poetry: Medusa, The Lost Daughter and Weathered Fragments. Follow her on Twitter @jennifersmithak


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