The mountain rises – rain falls either side;
the river carves new courses thru the plain
the views will never be the same again
as fertile meadows form, which coincide
with fauna stirring, brash and dewy-eyed.
this metaphor’s attempting to explain
the moments I first met Charles Foster Kane –
murmuring veiled macguffins as he died.
That’s it? I
wondered, What’s the fuss about?
a callow youth so sure of what he knows
too blind to spy invention’s fearless edge –
to see the context; then to puzzle out
the level land before
the mountain rose
and Ozymandias in
a burning sledge.
AWB
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