Solitude Mist

Sounds like what it might have been like
had there been one, done, run
away away as was desired (assumed)

had the words spread favorably
upon winds responsive: I may never have gone

thus you saw my shadow passing under the basement
where the windows and low ceilings 
contained my fantasy life

which, in its impossibility,
stifled the air
making a hermit out of a human
and a mountain into a dream
that lay its nightmares on the chest

until the sun came back
when each giant was moused
making the great
into what they are

another breeze
on any day.