From the hills
I could see my mountain
standing like their elder brother,

and then I went
down into the city
and I saw my mountain
stretching upward like a reminder.

From across the far river
another side of my mountain
speaks a new, strange language,

and even from the sea
my mountain rises up
like the crown some great island.

In the shadow
of my mountain today,
I saw the backs
of workers bent double.

My mountain
startled my eyes this morning
with a pink shawl
around her shoulders,
for yesterday
her garment had been grey.

I think I have seen every color
winking from my mountain's eye,
and at times my mountain,
playing with me,
even disappears,

and it is then
that I see her
the clearest.

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note: this poem is inspired by Mount Diablo in northern California.