Friday sentimentality

Heedless

I am your landscape;
you climb me and
play in my foothills
inseparable from
the other terrain
of your childhood

I am also your weather;
you lean into my winds
wailing against
the irresistable gale
or learning how
your will can bend me

How long will it last,
this intimate grounding?
How soon will you
push off into wider lands
respond to other calls
perhaps even cease to hear
far away behind you
my echoing hollows?

-- acm

Edit: poem title changed 3/9/09