the trail . . .

the hiker slowly falls behind the others
inching his way across the mountain peak
toward the day’s destination
ten miles hence.
it is peaceful here
walking among the blackberries
ripened by the late spring sun
and eaten by hungry black bears.
the hiker stops to adjust his pack
and takes a drink of tepid water
from the nalgene bottle
which hangs at his side.
white blazes mark the trail
beckoning the hiker to follow
as he quietly sings to himself
a song that has been trapped in his head.
over the peak and down
into the gap the hiker travels
greeted by the rushing waters
of a rocky brook,
shaded by a canopy of laurels.
he sits on the edge of the water
to remove his boots and socks
before he fords the stream.
the hiker is compelled
to sit for a while
feet dangling in the icy waters
of this swiftly-moving mountain brook.

-- Mike Baldwin aka:argon[one]