Sunday, August 31, 2014

Momentary Mountain

The cloud is kind to give our town a mountain.
A house or two had seized a little knoll;
The rest sprawled on the flats-but now the whole
Village is transformed and is transported
Toward ranges bluely blending in the sky.
Somehow the air is cooler for the thought.
We are an Alpine village, we are brought
To altitudes undreamed, before we die.
Beyond, the ranges stretch. A young girl's call
Rings with mountain silver; and he breathes
Mountain air, who dares to breathe at all.

MARGERY S. MANSFIELD.

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