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Mountains | Matthias NeeracherEn los montes, montes soy
—José Martí
I am not now, nor have I ever been, a mountain
and I wouldn’t let my sister marry one
but some of my best friends are mountains
and I do appreciate their company
I keep failing to live up to the example of Uto
steady, accessible, friendly, and urbane
gentle companion to seniors, fun to children
supportive and engaging to the ambitious
Instead, I tend to be like fickle Forcellina
sneakily colluding with wry insiders
their backpacks full of contraband
playing practical jokes on the innocent
On truly bad days, I resemble Lassen
all burning up with ancient fury
ill concealed by a dry exterior
just waiting for a chance to blow my top again
Calming down only to become Shasta
enormous, cold, unapproachable
the fires long dead
domineering, hostile, distant
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