I told my troubles
to the crisp mountain edges
razored against the apricot sky
just before the sun went down,
and the mountains smiled
in an amused, lopsided sort of way,
and nearly I thought they would reply—
in fact there was only
the rising moon,
a sharp urging wind,
and the scent-stab of rosemary,
setting the world to rights.
Cami Rumble is a writer who graduated from California State University Stanislaus with an English degree. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Prudence Dispatch, Last Leaves, California Quarterly, Penumbra, and Adelaide Literary Magazine. Cami lives in California’s Central Valley with her family. You can find her at www.camirumble.com.