There's something about mountains in the sky
Half-hovering above a field of trees
That makes my breath catch in my throat as I
Fly out of here. My vision strains to seize
A last glimpse of the fading vision, see
One more peak capped with snow before I leave.
Yet even as the airplane banks and we
Are born away, I cannot claim to grieve:
I'm leaving where I come from, but that phrase
Only has meaning if I go away.
It does not mean that I will cease to gaze
In longing back for mountains on my way,
But that where I am going is home too
Far from that longed-for, well-remembered view.
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