traveling along the Mogollon Rim

A lone female elk raises her head to look at me inquisitively,
then returns to her morning grass.
I stare at a slow moving dark stone, sauntering back and forth
like a drunkard.
I see a black bear appear.
In the darkest of nights, headlights show the tips of danger
as wild animal’s horns are illuminated above wild bushes.
Along the Mogollon Rim, one can never anticipate,
predict,
know where beauty will show itself,
and therein lies the wonder.
Some mornings all you see is what the the sun has to offer.
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1 Comment

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?