Pennington on Moosilauke



On a clear winter morning

I finish shaving

And look out the window

There you are forty miles away

As the crow flies

Beneath the South Peak

Beneath the glitter

The wind

The mercury hiding in the bowl.


Elegantly anecdotal ash

Limerick prone and perfectly groomed

In a small jar

That should be jewelled

Far from Sutton Place

From Springfield Mass

From Venice

From the boys

You never told us that you loved.


Good-bye, likely indoor

Unlikely outdoor friend

Each day the forty miles


And I see you less clearly

And less and less.


But the South Peak is there


While here it’s still green,

Or green again here

Still glittering on Moosilauke.


Good-bye dear Pennington