nearing proximity

        The reflection the mountains                     cast  into the sky shimmers

with the fin-flicker of almost-                     cloud, almost-snow fraying

     against the edges of what                            might be wings, might be  sun-

  smattered vision broken into                     prisms through tears or radiance:

        shadows pool the afternoon                      gathering itself into night, finding

shape and breadth in convergence.             Oh, and oh, and almost

   a cracking, a fissure in what                        might be called the heart. Oh, and

          oh, and almost belief, almost                      hope, oh and oh and almost…

                                                                    oh….