We’d be met
dedicated to films by John Scott
I.
Any one of us at any time walks an Alpine path.
Crisp kiss of air
and suitors in your peripheral sight
white hot with good intentions—
you (we) are ascending.
Little branches of green leaves tremble
when you brush past
on your way up.
The blue sky sings opera.
You can take so deep a breath it’s comical.
Phlox vibrat…
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