Girl Atop Windy Point Pinnacle — Image by kenne
Windy Point Girl
She’s up there now,
short-shorts and sunlight,
heart beating faster
than the climb.
Wind takes her hair,
makes a banner of it—
victory in a wild language
only mountains understand.
Below, Tucson sprawls,
small as toy houses,
streets like veins
spilling into desert.
She smiles,
pushing back her hair,
as if the world itself
were hers to love,
and for a moment—
I swear it is.
— kenne
