Once
i had a mountain of my own
with moss and walls and magic
and a mighty view
a forest of my own
listening to me
showing me its secret paths and trails
green with depths and sleeping sunrises
thorns that never cut
my feet and face
a pine of my own
offering a seat in the sunset
painting windy pictures
arabesques
of fortune and forever
too large to fit
even in a child's pocket
now
arabesques of forgetfulness
are left to burn holes
in my white tapestry and fangible wallpaper
once
i had a world of my own
it is still there
only
i am gone