hot coffee, and the maps are out –
the rise out of Box Canyon
an uneven line of red
a map may tally an ascent,
mark the twists in a trail,
lend certain assurances
what it cannot show is emergence
from a stone-heavy world
into the mercy of pines –
into the stalwart grace
of a waiting mountain,
where the rushing creeks sing
and the winds hum along
© Sarah Whiteley
‘Into the stalwart grace of a waiting mountain ‘ – I like that Sarah!
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Thanks, John! Much appreciated 🙂
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“…and the winds hum along” – I love this ending to another lovely poem! ❤️
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❤
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