"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Thursday, April 16, 2026

The Rockies

NaPoWriMo Day Sixteen

Maybe you can imagine
one deafening crash
after another, and another, 
the movement of two or more
boundlessly large objects 
grappling in violent collision.

Maybe you can see now, 
in the space where these objects
were once peacefully separate, 
skyward growth, sharp and
treacherous, towering over
entire continents that surround it. 

Maybe you can hear
how quiet it's become since then,
how only the leylines of the wind, 
the hiss of ever-falling snow, 
and sparse traffic of humanity 
now intersect upon it. 

Maybe if I idle here - beard frozen, 
skin dry - for silent eons enough, 
these peaks will speak to me. 

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