I am in love with this mountain
that all summer long threatens to killmy father. Swallow him in the pale blue
Emmons, crush him beneath an avalancheor send him sliding down the Kautz –
his crampons falling on pre-dawn ice.

This mountain I love will one day knock
on the door of my mother’s home,

unearth the graves of my relatives
and carry hyacinths and coffins

down the Duwamish, out into the Sound.