"Peak" by Geoff Kanick
A carving of scattered dust,
Collected around a single peak.
More are found in that thick cloud.
Hidden for now,
Sure to show their face
In due time. A puff of smoke
Like those seen in a magic show.
Or perhaps like when you find an old book,
And blow air across the cover
To read the title.
A foggy memory sparked, and grows
Like leaves and pages of a forest.
Roots grow deep
So the peak can climb
And rise above those