Hiking at Mount Ellinor
When I followed you up the trail I felt
something that didn’t make sense.
I watched you walk. Mountain hemlock,
fir and cedar filled me. It was seven years
too early.
You photographed my car as I drove away.
The moon passed us over. Perhaps I can
forgive the way it shone
on that seven year night
when I couldn’t hear
your voice. Forgive how the sun
gave in to the strong arm of cold
when winter took our dry leaves
and broke them down until they became
earth. Earth hides the evidence of our lives
which feed it. I may even choose to accept
those separate years we filled with breakfasts,
lunches, dinner but I cannot say
there was no winter,
that I was always with you. Instead
I slept a long sleep and then woke
hungry with the memory of Mount Ellinor.
Abra Sandi King (formerly known as Sandi Sartorelli) writes portrait, self-portrait and persona poems. Her work has been published in a range of websites and journals, and in 2017 she was a finalist in the 'Sarah Broom Poetry Prize'. Currently she lives in the Hutt Valley. She enjoys hanging out with 'Meow Gurrrls' poetry writing group in Wellington.
