Thursday, May 28, 2009
The Journey
I walk through a path of frozen mud, a twisted narrow way I somehow know leads to the top. Along the way, the trees, some dressed in gold, some in red like the color of blood, tremble trying to embrace the frigid soil that shivers under a late frost. There are no sounds, except for a primitive, primal, rhythmic thump that grows louder as I continue to go forth. My body shakes. tired and hungry, lonely and untouched, as it feels the kiss of the wind so cold. My eyes look beyond the trees and the...
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