Treasure Island

Edwin Cordero


Snow Mountain


Up on this mountain,
A clear fountain
Distills water.

Up on this mountain,
The snow covers
My Asian cottage.

Hiding in it,
Shuddering,
At that image.

Who would've thought
After all the scarce
Populace pilgrimage

That I'd be visited
By this distraught,
Wretched demon.

Nightfall's on the horizon
As I peak through blinds on
This wagging figure.

Blowing the candles,
My body trembles
As a mirror.

To hear him calling
In mocking fashion
Is the ultimate trigger:

“You should have gone
For that liaison;
What a coward.

Spending time
Writing poems
To freeze fire—

Tell me, is it not
That she haunts
In nightmares?

You should have sought
To have popped
Her idea.

Why bathe so just,
In water distilled aloft,
Only because it's clear?

It's much more fun
To dip in mud
At the rear.”

Up on this mountain,
He causes someone
Cloaked to appear.

Up on this mountain,
That waist is fastened,
Only to reveal

That here—
She is smiling
In the worst of hauntings.

Submitted: Friday, June 28, 2013
Edited: Saturday, June 29, 2013

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