The giants
Everest,
Half Dome,
Dents du Midi,
speak in booming voices,
chests protruding,
to announce their immensity
as distant visitors gape
then huddle so cameras can snap
before greater wonders
overtake their splendor.
Yet nestled among these looming titans
are smaller shapes
too numerous to name,
a rocky serpent rising from a sea of shale
or a galloping horsemen anchored in place;
anonymous glacially sculpted creations
never darkened by footprints
who speak through softer edges
and quieter voices
to reflective observers
no cameras in hand.
First published by Willows Wept June 2020