If not for exploration or for

Sightseeing, why do we tread here?

Where the track is clean and

Narrower than most

And the mantle of the overhanging leaves

Lets neither sunlight nor wandering eyes despoil

It seems like a simple choice, an error of commission;

The road we took

That bent to the right while booted hikers

And their voices went singing off another way

And was it some cry from some wild beast

That led us to cling ferociously

In the middle of the track, or

The thought we might be lost

That had us pressed to each other

In this new, unsubtle way

No, my steps were deliberate

And yours calculated

And the godly silence of the forest

Was an ally, though God might not

Have countenanced such

Lusty hymns as the ones we sang

That morning, on the trail

03/06/2005

Posted on 03/06/2005
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch