never prepared then

now the horizon brightens up
entering the land not visited
very little dots of light where
each campfire is keeping company
reduced to the last moment before the sky fades black
pops from burning wood echo and
ricochet like the
environment itself it twitching
playing its own soundtrack from
around the river to the shadows on the
ridge edge and among the rock line
ended by the opening of the valley
dying leaves clinging to those branches
twisting group of breeze dance around social circles
however long it takes the night lives for this
experience that encapsulates timelessness
near darkness hides eternal understandings
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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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