She Yodeled Back

My true bravery acts best faceless.

With my face and your face inches

become miles—miles, inches. With your eyes

in my eyes I am smiling and silent.

You have no idea—you cannot fathom

the depth (not breadth) of my silence, how

when you disappear the spark of me grows.

In your absence I could move mountains.

-

But you don’t want a mountain, just a mountain girl

who knows how to herd the goats gently

and not lose them. You want a clear-eyed Heidi

or a song-filled Maria to share the Alps with

as the fire burns low and the children sleep.

-

So tomorrow I will braid my hair and learn how to sing.

I will find the missing mountain goat, climb dirty and bleeding

over rocks sized like buildings until the last one is home.

I will look at the Alps and not wonder,

were you not here, could I move them.