He Goes Up to the Mountains
He goes up to the mountains On days he wakes up snarling When life’s a shrinking cage A shill game He goes to back to his trees He comes home muddy, aching Hungry, whole and human He thinks he’s getting exercise I know he is grieving Some people mourn in motion And the earth always Receives them
Bio:
Morning-meadow Jones is a mother, migrant, and multi-medium creative, practicing various Arts from her home in Wales, UK. She recently launched her writing career, at the age of 51. She has words forthcoming in Overtly Lit and the other side of hope magazine.
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