Mist on Mount Abe
By Jack Mayer

I climb up Battell Trail,
a spur off the Long Trail,
into Mount Abe’s mist,
pastel painted for Fall.
Autumn insects awaken,
hung-over with summer’s excess.
South wind stirs dying foliage,
not yet for the last time,
till they fall. Yellow leaves
my diamond-studded trail.

As “Mountain Poet”,
I thank the earth for this
astounding writing desk,
this palette of water colours,
mist today, hard sun tomorrow.
The dying of the green.
Some of the 10,000 things
are lost, some gained.
One day I’ll be here
as ashes, aching to be released.
Don’t trap me in an urn,
rather pour my ashes into this earth,
return my atoms to the cosmos.
Spread some of me atop Mount Abe
for one last walk in the woods
from which I’ll not return.

Battell Shelter–on Mount Abraham–Long Trail
9 October 2018