hill rolls under concrete,
skyscrapers, shops, trains,
all that seems forever

as I climb toward my hotel
all that seems forever
bends to the hill, rather

than the hill bending to it
even as the hill shifts its edges,
shakes out its cramped spine

at will so that all that seems
builds its forever in peril.
yet, it does not crumble

nor voice shame, perhaps
learning wisdom in the bends,
honor in the shifts, odd jiggles

My husband challenged me to choose a ‘poetic’ New Year’s resolution. So here it is – adding a voice recording to my poetry posts. I chose this for two reasons. First, it terrifies me. Second, it is an excellent reminder to test my poems with my voice before being satisfied with the paper version. Eek.