Freeing Fossils in My Free Time

Every mountain is an assassin

if you count the bodies of the fossils

trapped inside

or every mountain is a graveyard

we hide

or a wonderland

we ride

or a microcosm of the very side of the universe we’re currently calling home.

This mountain we all must climb

by plucking at the sands of rhyme

each granule by granule by granule

until we’ve turned mountain into beach

until we can all reach the summit

standing above it

just by laying down a beach towel

and letting the tide come to us.

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4 thoughts on “Freeing Fossils in My Free Time

  1. Betty Hayes Albright

    Peter, I love this – a thought-provoking metaphor!
    (I’m way behind in blog reading and will try to come back in the next couple of days and finish catching up here. Your poetry is always worth keeping up with.)

    Reply
    1. cottonbombs Post author

      Thank you, Betty! I am happy you dropped by; I know how time slips through our fingers as we are typing on our own blogs, and other blogs, and the life we live off the computer. I am thankful for any time that we have for a hearty ‘hello’ at all.

      Reply
  2. granbee

    Laying down a towel on the mountaintop and letting the tide come to us–unfortunately, this may happen if the icecaps keep melting, you know. I really like the broad, millenia-enclosing scope of this poem, Peter. The fossils from eons ago and the seas rising to the moutaintops–who knows how long from now!

    Reply
    1. cottonbombs Post author

      I wrote this poem with a sense of humor, but, reading it over, it isn’t as funny as I wanted, cause of the whole Global Warming impact that it brings up. Comedy is tragedy plus time. Generally, this means it has to have happened along with some years to heal before it is funny. It’s not funny when it’s about to happen.

      Reply

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