if you're like me…
you have often thought,
when you see a mountain,
that you would like to live
in the mountains;
in a shack made of wood
on the edge of a sheer drop.
you'd sit on the balcony
in the mist of the morning.
you'd have a small, scruffy dog
and a walking stick.
both of you older
than boulders.
and when you were gone
like the morning fog
they'd wrap you in rags.
you'd hang from the side of a cliff
with a wooden chair
strapped beside you,
the old life behind you.
the occasional visitor
would sit there a while
like a memory in the mind.
then, like a bird,
they'd be gone.
Simon Alderwick is originally from England but currently lives in the Philippines. His poetry has appeared in Magma, Ink Sweat & Tears, Acid Bath, Broken Spine, Acropolis, Black Flowers and Anthropocene, among others.
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