It comes to me sometimes,
what happened,
but when summer haze
wraps around these mountains
making them reflections
of the ones behind them, you can't tell
if they're fibbing about themselves,
or if they're really there.
They drape like drowsy shadows,
as though you could see right through them
if you just stared hard enough.
That's when I start to question:
Did it happen that way?
But the next morning when I wake up,
the day will be clear and cool.
Each one of these hills will be
right where it has always been,
its crisp blues and greens reaching up,
claiming its own named place.
Just so you know, when I'm telling you,
it's all in how the light plays.
--Linda Taylor Kane
Previously published in
LIGHTS IN THE MOUNTAINS
