The Mountain Cross | John Swain

Silver wolf, the mountain cross,
useless behind the wolf, beauty
you are married in the unknown.

A stonepoint pierces your breast,
your sharp white tooth a curse
on me and everything you give.

Mountain river golden with gold,
the tree fall, brute you would kill,
a kill the last weather will guard.

Mountain lay upon the stranger,
I am a guest to your capture,
a site, the track into unknowing.
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