spring come to the mountains
following the dark hull of a great
thundercloud always just ahead
climbing like a rollercoaster
to get to the high mesas
but when we looked around
by then the sky had cleared
and vast empty forested hills
went on for miles in all directions
we seemed to be going back in time
and yet everything had been replaced
where has the mountain gone meanwhile
the mountain of our memory
how long has the wildness been gone
into the wildness of memory
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