Snow Leopard

I would fall just as far and hard
for you, having spent half a life
wandering among these desolate
slopes of blue-grey schist awaiting
the gift of a snowless horizon or
some sound other than vexing
winds or the muffled crumble
of loose stone sliding over
stone or even a life, with its
ample burdens, that does not
push so hard against me,

and where days are no longer
spent in stealth and shadow,
avoiding the predatory cold
and the sudden turns of weather,
but rather, awaiting those rare
moments when I am able to free
myself from the hold of a land
that’s been eerily lifted, falling
in terrible tumult through weight-
less air with no ability to slow
my descent or to even roar.