I looked out over 
the Andes once when my 
skin was plump and

I could remember things
all I saw was an expanse of
emerald and jade
like my reflection in a mirror

scribbled on leaves 
the colour of mint all my
hypotheses of life and
art and through 

sage coloured glasses 
I only saw mountain ranges
and endless pages of 

instead of oxygen 
I inhaled
hope and optimism
though when it was dark
it was obsidian 

but when 
it was light it was all
honey and tuscan sun

and even now I still
search and catch 
glimpses of 
emerald and jade
silt and dust 

Lindsay Clayton Day