Old Mountain Pass

aspen
silver and ghastly
yellow coins vibrate on 

turning wind
see them snap off

sparkle 
on the air 
hardly a moment

mulish pines whisper in their secret shade
mutter old blood like 
fretful old folks

"teeth
pieces of his shiny gums
her hand on the demolished face"

over and over in 
the wind's voice

hear the horses strike the mountain like 
gods upon us 
hear them tumble

into the valley
into gathering shadows
  driven like hell by those sons-of-bitches

you'll remember it
powerful and fearsome
twisting over dim mountain into 

that ancient thing
sun counts the frightened trees
must die

feel the strange time of year

part of me remembers 
here and I 
long to be on the other side