The mountain feels like it flows
as much as the river that sits beside
(or more so -- i.e. more smoothly.)
The contours of a half-buried fist --
rounded knuckles and fingerbones --
sit in the mountainside,
as if jutting out of sand,
but soft & green.
It looks like the whole hand could lift
out of that mountainous topography,
and flick away the buildings on the bank,
or pluck canoes out of the river.
(But now the water is too low and chaotic
for any craft to pass.)
So, maybe the ancient mountain monster
will just put up its dukes to the world,
shaking that great, green, soft fist.