A Poem About a Hike

A Poem About a Hike

 

(I have no idea if the purple flowers I saw were actually heal-alls but I am always itching for good omens) 

 

I sometimes look out at birds and wish I was them. And mountains

Oh, the mountains, 

Sending tears down their slopes 

            rippling and shaking 

You’re halfway there

The overlook is worth it

Mud-lined and alive 

Breathing

Smooth rock beneath slick shoes, slipping 

Beds of Heal-Alls, purple and singing, lining that 

            path of earth 

disturbed by beating boots

Breathing, too, soothing scratched calves.

Heal-Alls:

I suppose for those moments 

            they did.