Black Mountain Clouds

Philosophical Vignettes

A horde of gaunt gossamer clouds
Came drifting through the gloomy sky— 

Thick mists poured down over the peaks,
Wafting about the frigid air 

—Like vapors from a witch’s spell—
Bubbling, foaming, frothing, until 

The sable brim was overflowed,
And curses on cursed pinions flew. 

So did the vapors dance about
The mountain’s frigid air that night. 

The climb was an…