Maybe Narcissus

Ashley Hudson

Long damp face
of a mountain. That mountain,

weather you can hide behind,
finding your face

in the shapes of clouds,
the sidelong glance of a stone,

falling. The moon is not the moon
when face to face

with the pond. The hailstorm
of your eyes. A petal

a kind of proof
floating between us.

Ashley Elizabeth Hudson is from Athens, Alabama. She was awarded the Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art poetry prize. Her poems appear in Six Little Things and most recently in the Southeast Review.