The mountain ridge with hazel eyes
lies outstretched, a voluptuous sleeping
woman, like a beige, brown and sage cameo
set against milky blue. Wind jostles the heads
of palm trees, then duets with palm shadows
on the grass. From the top of the head of one
palm jutting straight up like a jouster's
sword, a new leaf, its tight wrapping
about to unfurl. Until then embodiment of its innate
desire to climb higher. Wind rustles its fingers
through the dried palm tips, sounds like tropical
rain.
