i got so stuck looking for the map
i forgot to wander

these hills and valleys of deliverance
knocking down signposts
and standing there
at my own confusion
in the same way you led me here
as if it mattered
as if i mattered
and the trees just keep breathing
their dark ragged breaths
as if dying and winter
are the same

: :

i built a red cairn
in a bowl of misfortune

balanced everything
just long enough
to understand

falling is a journey
of its own
and landing
is not

One Response to “precipice”

  • Robyn Olson Hayes Says:

    yes those trees outside my window do keep breathing in just that way, whispering the same story.
    The gone are still gone, will always be gone, yet Spring will return. without them.

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