Crossing

Climbing upward, leaving

The world behind a

Curtain of pine and miles
Criss-crossing the same
Damn stream how many times?
First on a bridge, not far
From the lake, boots
Echoing loud on old
Wood, through the forest to
Cross once more
And again…
And again?
This time facing an
Excited, muscled
Brawl of water over
Stone
Cascading and laughing
At us on the shore
We had to leave
To get to the other side
We cross tentative
As migrating wildebeests
We cross holding
One another
Cameras held high
Rising dripping wet
Triumphant.

A Journey Not Far

A journey not far, usually

Taken for idle days, instead

Our duty to primp and polish

Rebuild and establish

Corduroy pathways over bits

Of bogs, roll boulders free from

Trails and overlooks

Breaking new ways where

Harsh Sierra winters scoured

With snow and ice, bringing

Boulders down from heights

Down avalanche chutes like

Bowling lanes, toppling

Trees like giant pins.

A Journey Not Far