a traveling poem

Another forgotten poem, for NaPoWriMo 2012. Maybe worth working on?

    

    

 

We know this path well, both of us.
We meet, and begin to walk together,
stepping around potholes, exclaiming
at this wildflower, that view of blue
mountains. One trips on a rock,
the other offers a hand-up. The path
narrows, we are touching shoulders
now. Our hands brush. We help
each other through treacherous

passages. The sun is straight over-
head. We pass the canteen back
and forth, tie our shirts around
our waists. At the spring, we dash
icy water on our faces, our bare arms,
on one another. Now we are laughing.
Soon we will turn back. Soon, the sun
will fall down the sky. Until then,
there is no place to hide.

 

 

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