1
The mountains around him opened in great flashing crevasses and
out poured men and women by the hundreds, smiling and laughing;
he was a monitoring eagle seeing life from all angles
Then he was the one seen, like a monitoring eagle glimpsed in the
trees, a rare and beautiful symbol.
Then again he was the eagle's eye, hidden in the deep branches of
a pine, far above, an eye that understood everything.
2
the rockface launched from its chasms
bright orange skiers
auroras flashed then drifted
the skiers were crepe paper
the mountain had a mouth
and it ate passing airplanes
the conscience of the Adirondacks
is the sandwort is the tundra yew
a volley of clouds whipped past
the trees and over the valley
where Mount Mansfield was ready
with its down the line return
Dreams
Dan Chiasson
Dan Chiasson is the author of five books, including, most recently, the poetry collection Bicentennial. He teaches at Wellesley College and reviews poetry for the New Yorker.