Beneath Cold Mountain

By Michael Hannon

For Joe Stroud

Sixty percent of the universe’s energy is missing.
Science can’t find it. The creek roars all night.

Yesterday, Coyote lay dead on the roadside,
Her corpse silvering in the overcast.
But you and I both know Coyote’s an Immortal,
And waits for us at the foot of Cold Mountain.

In the high country that we love, trails are steep.
We climb each mile, breath by breath,
And at the threshold of pain, bliss overtakes us.

This life on earth, who can say what it is?
On cold Mountain, Coyote crosses the summit snow
And leaves no trace.