“AVALANCHE”

Love is a mountain
after the tireless drive
with no streets or highways
laid to ride.

Pick up a shovel.
Dig your tunnel.
Climb inside.
This is your best chance
to get to the other side;

Because even if you could summit this peak,
love would surely crumble beneath your feet;
And down you will slide—
to settle somewhere not as high,
with all the other brave, broken-hearted bodies—
thawing out ten feet deep
beneath what once was love,
but is now your frozen grave.

So next time you come to a mountain,
or the mountain comes to you—
Consult a map
before doing anything stupid.
This is my advice to you.

narrative poem written on 11-06-2010 by: on mattkane.com
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