Beyond the Next Ridge  

A stark light planes the land,

smoothes ridge-lines

into contours of colour:

brightness cures shade,

banishes it utterly

to some imagined valley.

We traverse each flank,

seeking the crests

where air is cooler,

where each barren brow

reveals a new overlay

of rise upon swollen rise.

We leave our thoughts

snagged and breeze-blown,

rough-filtered, caught

in gap-tooth fence posts,

blunt fingers pointing

to this carpenter light.

Ted Eames, 2018