For An Earth Landing

the sky sinks its blue teeth

into the mountains.



Rising on pure will



(the lurch & lift-off,

the sudden swing

into wide, white snow),



I encourage the cable.



Past the wind

& crossed tips of my skis

& the mauve shadows of pines

& the spoor of bears

& deer,



I speak to my fear,



rising, riding,

finding myself



the only thing

between snow & sky,



the link

that holds it all together.



Halfway up the wire,

we stop,

slide back a little

(a whirr of pulleys).



Astronauts circle above us today

in the television blue of space.



But the thin withers of alps

are waiting to take us too,

& this might be the moon!



We move!



Friends, this is a toy

merely for reaching mountains



merely

for skiing down.



& now we're dangling

like charms on the same bracelet



or upsidedown tightrope people

(a colossal circus!)



or absurd winged walkers,

angels in animal fur,



with mittened hands waving

& fear turning



& the mountain

like a fisherman,



reeling us all in.



So we land

on the windy peak,

touch skis to snow,

are married to our purple shadows,

& ski back down

to the unimaginable valley



leaving no footprints.