I miss the mountains
and the youth who climbed them
I miss sunset
from Shining Rock
eating from the blueberries
which smother its base
Ever been there
where a part of you
forever remains behind
Still
in my slowly
aging dreams
I hear giggling angels
in the tumbling creeks
I still smell the cinnamon musk
of rain wet rhododendron
the incense of innocence
I remember love as
what we are
not as a calculation
Those aren't tears tracking
from cheek to jaw
they're only liquid
remembrances
of what's to come
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