Mountain For Breakfast

Ate a mountain this morning.
All of it, base to peak.

I sat around fat as a dam
waiting to burst.

Lightning and fog
gathered around my head.

I was huge; if you’d been there
and tried to scale me, you’d have perished.

“I’m geographical!” I exclaimed.
“I’m on the map!”

Then someone tried to rename me.
I resisted that successfully

but damned if then I didn’t start wondering
who I was.

When and if I push this rock out of me
will I be the same person?

Can anyone take in that much of the world
and be unchanged?

All that I can say is that a mountain
presented itself, I took it in,

and now I’m staring down from a cliff
whenever I look in the mirror.