Wind gnaws at the cliffs,
breaking stone to grains of dust,
mountains lose their shape.

Dust is swept downstream,
drifting past the river’s edge,
soft hands carve through stone.

River splits the earth,
pulling roots from loosened ground,
trees bow, then descend.

Leaves drown in the waves,
fading under briny hush,
light slips into blue.

Foam dissolves to mist,
rising toward the silent peaks,
snow begins to bloom.

Cold weighs on the rock,
frost unthreads the mountain’s bones,
wind gnaws at the cliffs.

AJean-Paul Sartre:
“If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company”

<>

stumbled upon while reading a movie review,
this almost a proverbial phrase provoking,
even stoking,

as we hold it up to the light,
twisting, turning the words,
as if it was a
kaleidoscope of diamonds,
looking at the fractured reflections,
for a better comprehension

we,
of two minds:
be-love and be-rued
this s l o w e d turning of our solitary solution
under the microscope ,
for critiquing
the two headed hydra
that has served us  well and poorly

you, dear reader, understand perfectly,
the utility and the inutility of aloneness,
the surge creativity that comes
from no distractions,
other than our internal attractions

which when
one interrupted by the company of,
insertion of a different catalogue
a holder of human foibles,
differentiating, threatening, upsetting,
and sometimes soothing,
always enervating,
unlike the soothe of solitude

either can overwhelm,
either can worse,
underwhelm
but
the crossover. when the contrast is
pointy and sharp,
raises an irritating questioning
like the cracking, dry skin, of
places where we do not put
moisturizing cream
for fear of feeling failure

each to their own,
the enjoy/unjoy of voices
claiming a  permanent correctness
of their viewpoint
  wringing in with
a legal pad of
pluses and minuses
listing side to dide,
but never adding up
to 💯