La Finistra (Italy November 2006)

The insignificant hole
in Monte Forato
watches Barga like an
almond eye.

Though my attention is,
on a higher peak,
Pania della Croce,
to which,
I thought,
I strode towards,
through Autumn’s Chestnut leaves.

But maps and paths did not relate,
and I was strangely lost,
until I met three ‘alpinista, ‘
who put me straight
and led me
via Foca di Petrosciana
to Monte Procinto and Forato.

Collapsed, exhausted
by a final climb,
above, from mist, a massive limestone arch looms out,
a natural entrance
to a shining light.

Climbing, I collapse again,
death, chestnut leaves away,
unconscious life,
humus of flowers and ferns,
bursting forth.

“Climbing!”
“to the light,”
entering with awe,
and watching from the other side,
light, streaming,
through the mist
on force lines through
a giant magnet.

Mountain reaching out,
to hold;
the light,
the setting sun,
or moon,
or you,
in her embrace.

Also,
like a finger
pointing,
“to the summit.”

We eat our sandwiches,
leave our bags,
and after one last smoke,
climb to,
the summit caves-

“The final stand.”