In the mountains it's cold. Always been cold, not just this year. Jagged scarps forever snowed in. Woods in the dark ravines spitting mist. Grass is still sprouting at the end of June, Leaves begin to fall in early August. And here I am, high on mountains, Peering and peering, but I can't even see the sky.
Gary SnyderAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: american
- Born: May 8, 1930