For JN  /10.

 

Those furthest hills, because

they speak, have known

me from my sleep and

now, as whisper, keep their

promise of when we next

meet and how we will be

seeing each other then.

 

For me though,

I must travel that Ridge

and slowly turn the

circle of its day out

of the Earth for Sunlight

and across Burnt sky for

something new to touch.

 

With these words we speak,

hill and me, and grow as

mountains know the higher

by being with them one and

with them one of three.


Photo by Jo N. Miles

 

 10. 

 



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