Friday Poem


Sometimes the mountain
is hidden from me in veils
of clouds, sometimes
I am hidden from the mountain
in veils of inattention, apathy, fatigue,
when I forget or refuse to go
down to the shore or the few yards
up the road, on a clear day,
to reconfirm
that witnessing

by Denise Levertov
from A Book of Luminous Things
Harvest Books, 1996