My Walkabout

The green leaves guide my path on front of the Great Mountain,
clear blue water shimmers before my wrinkled and gnarled fingers.

I tie a knot, set my footing on the small stones of yesteryear
and reach back and let fly.

The mighty hawk is overhead, circling with predatory purpose as I keep a watchful on the line as a breeze passes by.

A squirrel comes by to chat, plays for a moment, then disappears back into the forest.

The clouds become time, ticking away the hours as my skin becomes a shiny apple.

The Uinta mountains are now a part of the countdown.