6.28.2008

Valleysong; or, The Ascent


the late Mrs. Fitzgibbon would have turned
sixty-eight this year, if I heard right.
your way of life changes, Fitz says, not lightly
but with life, as someone who has heard
the still, sad music of humanity
and greets the day with hale voice – and they
would have been wed forty-four years today.
that song grows soft in age, the melody
is stretched to fill the lonely twilight hours.
the choice presents itself: to brave or cower
from that music, which is itself the choice
to live or not, and Fitz raises his voice
over the howl of mountain wind, back bent,
and breathes deep, ready for the long ascent.