...the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life...

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

12. San Luis Peak

We were walking along the skirts of the mountain,
after dark, moon full, taking a path through clusters of oaks.
We bent our necks to keep our heads from hitting branches.

We were new to each other. The walk had taken time,
more than we had calculated. In the shadow of each tree
our sight left us. A large creature in the dark stopped us.

We could hear breathing, thick and wet and halting,
a heavy scrape of feet on the hard-packed, dry earth.
We hadn't told anyone where we had gone.

We waited with our own breath silent as the evening,
we waited till our eyes regained their vision, till we saw
that what blocked us was no danger. And we moved.

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