The Changing Place

Down the path with nobody in sight.
Dawns chorus at full flight.
Leaves underfoot.
My body no longer pained,
my mind is bright.
The crying bridge
holds no clarity.
The watery pass has no tears
it moves over rocks and pebbles,
and no longer has concerns.
Each tree has its own grounding,
in the sky they clasp each other’s hands.
Mushrooms imbed themselves into a forgiving bark.
Wild garlic awakens my stomach.
The cold damp air now noticeable.
The rusty trees form a prison around me
with their sad unchanged faces.

A place unchanged by the eye
but changed in the heart.


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