MOUNTAIN SONG

I dream about days
on the roof.
surrounded by wooded
scents.
tree bark and pine straw.
Our house sunk deep into
a mountain, with easy
access to the roof.
A place where I could
spend hours.
I stayed outside,winter and summer
in my favorite soft faded
jeans.
I thought about the enormous
rocks on the side of the mountain
and how they made me feel protected
and unseen by the world.
The vantage point from the peak
of the roof spread out a town before me.
Tiny roads, buildings, cars.
A town I could look at and
yet wasn’t a part of.
I was strange, artsy, withdrawn.
I didn’t like boys.
So I sat on the roof, or climbed
up the mountain.
I spent time on certain massive
rocks and thought about life.
I reached the top where the
water tower sat.
I looked down and remembered
summer camp.
I remembered the girls there
who liked me.
I fantasized about the iron beds
and iron water and songs that bounced
off of the river.