Old Man In The Mountain

Caitlin my flesh looks around
anticipates, eyes wide,
tell her we are going to see
"The old man in the mountain"
rock face wall
with his jutted jaw
cheeks smooth as glass years slide off
eyes hold wise
his immortality.

Family walks path
We are young, strong...
our immortality.
Caitlin stops short our chain reaction tumble
points "Is that him'?"
Is that the old man in the mountain"?
Sandals under black socks rise over
vein blue water rush
jaw sinks,
skin sags,
sparse gravel hair,
his gate rusted.
Her words echo over cavernous walls
a pebble thrown into stream of our conscience
rippling "is that him"
our nervous smiles
our lips pout shhhh.
to her innocence.
Old man stone faced.

We recall old man at family gathering
remember when we were immortal.

My hand writes this message in my bottled up memories
older in my travels
shakier in my sorrow.
The old man slid off his mountain
surrendering rock face in the mourning of his mortality

I look in my daughters eyes and see his wisdom.

©Philip Hasouris


 
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