Two Poems

Caroline Morgan Di Giovanni

A Mountain Like a Ship

At Roccacaramanico, Abruzzo

The air is clear above us

we float in the surrounding sky

beneath us solid rock

unmoved for millennia

the ageless grass feeds

millennial sheep, watched over by

generations of shepherds.

Like the wind above the sea

nothing else exists for us

sun burning down

cloud formations gathering, drifting,

the foreknowledge of rain.

Sailors and mountain dwellers

disdain city clutter

crash and noise of the urban landscape

where sun wind and sky go unnoticed,

a choking sensation

unnerves us.

On this summit water earth and air

form the brilliant combination

eagles and hawks soar high

over mountain passes

just as seagulls navigate

the far-off azure oceans.

We are spectators in this place

crouched as in a child’s game

glimpse of the privileged location

Madre Terra, Mother of Mountains.