crunch...crunch...crunch...booted feet on leaves fallen, stain glass shattered beneath trees barren, reaching heaven. maybe them, maybe me.
there is a bear in the woods, protecting her cubs, the announcer's voice on the radio, driving up, sounded like he needed more coffee.
tristan wrestles his bear there at the end of Legends of the Fall, mine might be here in the trees, waiting for me. i have no knife, but what a match it would be, head pressed into the fur of his chest, close enough for synchronized heart beats. unleashed ferocity, pummeling. eustace torn deep to the boy within the dragon. jacob limping.
i am here to find you among the wild untamed mountain top, sheared clean by wind to white rock. i sit & wait.
birds circle lazily, round, round, round.
a black ant crawls atop my perch, touching my finger, continuing on its way.
no bear, but you are here.
pouring myself out, i spill across the stone, runnels dripping in puddles on the thirsty ground below.
a cold finger slips my collar running down my backbone & i laugh.
the mountain air invigorates me, drying my cheeks.
i shiver as you hold me, until it is
time to go, but
i look back as i walk away,