Missing mountaintop

From time to time a flash of panic, as if I’ve forgotten something — but I can’t think what.

missing mountaintop
in the pit
of my stomach

time machine

you too
have never existed

the dragon in my rock
will never hatch

letting the wind help
fold my map

in my earliest memories
you were granite

a walker all in white
autumn mountain

a fragment of forest
preserved in shale

black bear

the plucked banjo string
of a tanager

on all fours
the growl in my chest

for a spell
sand stone

or apprehensive
old black birch