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Saturday, November 26, 2005

path

inwards;
pineneedles our only way,
she took the direct route
and we followed the very stones
and stepped our own
steps,
quiet feet that knew the way,
and we carried with us the careful knowing
of the journey
that was ours,
and in the gathering of trees,
met,
we sat,
and knowing our breath
until our hands clasped
and feet followed, the blue
shadows of the day;
and our hearts knowing
now,
the hour of peace of the
path,
carried us home.


A.

2 comments:

Ally said...

I just want to know WHEN are you having your poetry published - 'cause the time is NOW!

Angi b said...

here here! you have a gift, my friend