Sestina

In this house, down by the river

in the shadow of Spencer Mountain,

I feel the wild abandon

of river coyotes, hunting and howling off the page

Eerie voices echoing off water, tree, and rock,

as predators prowl through cedar.

Some of my favorite trees are the cedar

growing wild on the banks of the river

Above the motion and rock

of the water cascading down the mountain,

running like a horseless page

on fire for a maiden he will eventually abandon

for another he will one day abandon,

perhaps lying with yet another in the shade of a majestic cedar

like an illustration from a storybook page,

complete with a flowing river

beneath a purple mountain

and various outcrops of rock.

Posing as a pillow, beneath his head lies a rock.

Pretending to be a maiden, the woman is lost in his embrace, the abandon

evident on her face, greater than the mountain

rising behind them like a cedar

rooted in desire flowing like a river

through the couple and off the page.

What to make of this page

resting his head on a rock

alongside this woman and river

dreaming of others he will abandon

so that he may remain as singular as a cedar,

impenetrable as a mountain.

They say faith can move a mountain

more easily than I can turn the page,

bring the freshening air of cedar

and hold steady as a rock,

patiently outwaiting these moments of abandon,

flowing through bodies like a river.

This majestic mountain is one giant rock,

an indelible page impossible to abandon

in the shade of a cedar rising from the current of the river.