While we stayed at the Truffle Pigs Inn (my review on TripAdvisor), I saw the below poem on the wall and yesterday I went back to the guys and asked if I could be sent a picture ... and they did, another star for them.
ONLY LARGE WORDS
The mountains here know
only the large words:
Life, death, eternity.
I smile at my new car
I smile and stroke the
metal
filled with extra horses
taut
and set to pull against the
hills
The mountain says, “Ten thousand years
a million are the same to me
as seconds down, directly down a gorge.”
I’ve longed to be encased in fame
to know a president, prime minister
and eat fresh lobster daily with radiccio
and sometimes almost touch this world of lights
But when I tell the giant rocks
they send me back
a yawning Yoho, “So?”
The task I’m doing now - imperative
as sirens or pee
until I see the silent still of trees
I feel the ice that layers down
and down to crystals made
in Neolithic nights.
The mountains call out
look at me
and feel your body shrink enough
that you can slide through keyholes
of the doors that have been locked
and paddle calm and safe through any
random spill.
I wish that I could live here for a while
allow their slow exquisite faces
to out stare my digitalized gaze
until they would dissolve
all thoughts in me
that not granite
until like them I too
know only the large words
like “Thunder’, like “Imagine, now, the stars.”
Dorothy Coffman 2004
... and of course, this poem calls for some mountain shots
