Following Paths

I set a foot in the

Wilderness, a blindfold over

My eyes, and felt for the

Trees in the twilight as the

Moon began to rise.

Your palm flattened out

All the mountains, splashed

Down and bridged the

Seas, filled the deepened

Canyons, splintered whole forests

Of trees; your fingers scrawled

The horizon and clawed

Deep into the earth, etching

Paths my feet could rely on,

Spanning the whole of

The girth of the country. Me,

My ankles, thin and frail.

I grope in the night for your

Fingers, I seek to

Follow your trail.

Categories: Poetry | Leave a comment

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