and sit
down
look out:
from right to left
from north to south
a great ragged ridge
fills the space between
earth and sky,
below deep green of orange
orchards gives way to olive
foothills, then pine
finally stone unadorned
serrates the horizon.

I turn to the dog and say
Tayegetos.
He doesn't know shit,
wags his tail, drools.
Cold stone flows into my ass
my legs the lights of Pickoulyanika
pierce the twilight mist.
Bats, owls tear through the thick air
and I rise up and shout
Tayegetos!

Things that fly don't give a shit
about the earth bound.
Why should they?

I call the beasts
and we move out through
the dark orchards.
Rustle and flit
small things in the chaparral,
spokes of energy spin
across the darkening earth
and I whisper
Tayegetos
but the mountains
do not know their name
mountains do not know their name
though I shout it at their flanks
and throw stones in the dark,
I never miss,
everything is the mountain
Tayegetos.

I trip and let myself go
face first in tall grass.
The dogs pounce
licking like mad.
Tayegetos
I roar and fight to my knees,
gaze up, in the twilight
darker than night it looms
vaster than dream
and more slow.
Nothing matters to the mountain.
All things flow down it
and nothing matters.
I grab the dogs, pull myself
to my feet and spread my arms
to measure it, to breathe it in,
Tayegetos.

Pulling a load of firewood
two farmers on tractor roar by
looking and nodding,
There's Markos with his dogs
staggering through the orchards
shouting
whispering
singing to the mountains
again

Tayegetos,
tell me again
how small I am.