Evening Walk


We take the slow route up the ridge

through the sparse clumps of dried grass, over rocks rouged by twilight.

At the top, instead of continuing on, looping down and around

in constant motion as if this were the only way

to ensure the next moment’s arrival,

we pause.

Stillness so seldom left to ripen on its branch

and fall of its own free will.

We sit on the bare spine of earth,

coyotes singing yip yi yi yi yiiii

as the horizon rises towards night.


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