Pantyspydded: Walk 10
a poem in draft
I.
We are on opposite sides
of a fence after a rain
fall. The ground sinks
with each step.
Hours walking have led
us through fields, woods,
a tree line to this cresting
hillside, this silence
a comfortable weight
between us,
like the agreement we have
with the green grass and dirt beneath,
which keeps us up only
after giving a little.It has been three years
that I have been with
you, leading me through
the tree line, yet I feel
untethered
from the hill, from you and our
distant homes, untethered
from the rain-soaked green
Earth itself.
continue...