the mountains
are like fountains
of moonscape earth,
stunned by the hard core
of man-made statues.
those who worship them
stand in awe.
they think the mountains
are lonely shacks
in the immense tenement of time
and they revere the rivers and streams.
it’s almost obscene.
the tigers are dying back east.
the tents reflect streams
from the lanterns and homes
of Winnebago Junction,
near Pipeline Falls.