December Flame Among Mountains

December Flame among Mountains
by me(whatever)
11-4-12

Among the monochromatic hills of wandering,
from green to red, December, it bites
Sir wind only a-whispering
in my ear
a lingering noise still awakes.

They stand back-to-back, those silly dirt-mounds
whimsically whistling their song to travelers
And as I turn my eyes, the snow covered peaks
gallantly strive back my gaze
stoical in their silence,
standing alone from the threshold of cold

Like the scent of wilderness, I wish to continue running
toward the place my heart resides
the subtle caperings of my feet
flying through the snow of those six pomegranate seeds,
and the Earth spinning in my lungs,
always, continuously

Instead of a lucid dream.

And how far does a flame
Have to go?
Straying through the silent storm,
Destroy or be destroyed?

If that is so,
then as the perspectives change,
individual as the trees
to catch them all in their gaze,
falling towards the sky, and
skin as frozen,
as was red,

I am the snow-capped peak
still sleeping
standing on the threshold of loneliness.