{"id":15734,"date":"2021-02-22T18:51:05","date_gmt":"2021-02-22T23:51:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/?p=15734"},"modified":"2021-02-22T18:51:05","modified_gmt":"2021-02-22T23:51:05","slug":"the-rose-vine-mountains","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/2021\/02\/22\/the-rose-vine-mountains\/","title":{"rendered":"the rose vine – “Mountains”"},"content":{"rendered":"

“Mountains”<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

My feet dangle above the earth<\/span><\/p>\n

my hair blows in the wind.<\/span><\/p>\n

I can see for what feels like miles away.<\/span><\/p>\n

My heart skips a beat as I look below<\/span><\/p>\n

but I feel safe.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

His shoulders felt like mountains to climb<\/span><\/p>\n

and I did. As often as he would allow.<\/span><\/p>\n

When my short legs got tired on the long walk home.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I needed a better view of what lied ahead.<\/span><\/p>\n

Until I got too big and he got too old.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Time passes and I help him to bed and get him his lunch<\/span><\/p>\n

The days I sat on those mountains now long gone.<\/span><\/p>\n

The days I felt as high as the eagles we sought.<\/span><\/p>\n

And then he\u2019s gone.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mountains buried six feet underground.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And part of my childhood dies with him.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am no longer the little girl\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

who could forget her troubles on her papa\u2019s shoulders.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am grown, or so it appears. I stand alone,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

my mile-long view replaced with a blurry haze.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sorrow fills every inch of my feeble body<\/span><\/p>\n

and I know I would give everything\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

to climb those mountains once again,<\/span><\/p>\n

to just feel safe in the world again,<\/span><\/p>\n

to get back the peace that died with him.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“Mountains” My feet dangle above the earth my hair blows in the wind. I can see for what feels like miles away. My heart skips a beat as I look below but I feel safe.   His shoulders felt like mountains to climb and I did. As often as he would allow. When my short […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2241,"featured_media":15511,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[1028,1670,200,281,15],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15734"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2241"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15734"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15734\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15736,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15734\/revisions\/15736"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/15511"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15734"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15734"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15734"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}