Memoirs - Vesuvio

Indifferent terrain,
so clearly dark,
Some siren-haze's tantalizing fingers
caress the ground.

Indifferent slope,
so treacherously steep,
Some hermit tree makes bitter love
to former molten rock, now soil.

Indifferent apex,
so still for such a power,
the pumice choirs sing its praises
and turn their eyes to see

Indifferent me.