inexorably cut their way through
the rock, forming such steep ravines.
How many times has the path led
through such wondrous, lonely places?
The raccoon shadow the streams, and
the hounds follow the raccoon, and
—I, the sole, purposed wanderer—
trudge behind their cliff-bounded wake,
young once more, if but memory
in the dim, bough-filtered moon’s light.
Hoping your week has begun well. Please continue to pray for those affected by Hurricane Helene.
Very Respectfully,
Joseph Gary Crance