Thursday, January 28, 2010

Inversion

by Moni

The thick, putrified air
Coats the small peaks adding bulk
And its associated majesty

At the top of the grimy, falsified mountains
Fresh, early light illuminates three gray-white peaks
For one moment I can almost believe I'm not headed to an office park

But peering up at the eigre, the jungfrau, and the monch
Locked in place until one of them flinches
A cup of alpine chocolate hedonism scorching my mittens.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

A Pretty Shroud

By Moni


Why are sickly landscapes hallowed by yearly death?
The spiny, dusty, splintery earth
Is smothered with soft, frigid lifelessness
And looks better for it.

Is it still so in the robust places?
When gushing flowers, cushioned and slippery undergrowth
Are smothered by Jack Frost's pillow.

While the flame-licked high desert
Nestles into the cold angora shroud
That mutes the angles and bristles
And imparts a resplendent, pallid glow.