Summit Mist [sonnet]

Posted on Updated on


Somehow you got your heat into my flow
and tinkered with the workings of my heart;
I thought I’d hurled you from me long ago
but every tactic used you did outsmart.
It’s like I chose the highest mountain top
to climb although ascent means certain death;
such scaling heights as yours (each side a drop)
enthrall me — I can hardly draw a breath.
But yet your body gives me confidence
and — like no other flesh has ever done —
you baste me in your moistful hole intense
and melt the avalanching midnight sun.
While on your summit all I see is mist
through which no other mountain can exist.

© 2012, Alan Morrison

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s