JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

Mountain peaks see clearly
my brother and I crossed one
climbing into a crisp morning,
geological collections from eternity
seltzer streams, bird calls
God, bird calls in every
chattering language of song!

 

Rounding a corner between
shoulders of still sleeping rocks
an upside down waterfall
perfect as when first created
and in the falling of it
salmon leaping and twisting
up and falling, up and falling
silver as knives
bright as new coins
between the droplets
leaping and twisting

 

I am still there
in a hollow by the rocks
my brother went on
his pack bouncing into the mist
dazzled by the rising sun

  to the Himalayas
  to Kilimanjaro
  the Andes
 

  My eyes sing of him