Erosion

By the time 

you return to the mountain 

across faint trails,

there may only be a hill.

Now it stands 

with blurred edges 

in the billowing clouds 

but is still too soft 

to be considered 

a fact,

to be etched 

in the blue and green atlas.

But still you follow 

the snow melt stream 

as it diminishes 

from the source, 

cutting striped canyons 

into the skin 

of your globe; 

the forgotten foundation

of expressions.

-Robert L. Jackson III