Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Brownsville Gap 1140'

here he tugs at sassafras root
          pieces of birch wood too,
later in camp we'll brew it into tea,

Ahead he walks with steady gait over rugged terrain.

the rocks at his feet are one with easy breathe,
          chirp of birds, whistled back in return,
          hand-picking raspberry, blackberry, huckleberry,
          a renewed spirit of forest,

a shaman of trails borne ever north.

here he has found something new,
          become something new
          inside and out.

AT Poems V

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