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Jan 2016
The day lights are turning down
a dark citrus sky
4: 38 pm, just as predicted
The clouds are orange with snow

Rain jacket
polyester pants
beanie
Where are my gloves?
I'm going for a walk.

Uphill towards the woods
it seems
my feet are one step ahead of me
my legs know where to go

I know there are no lights to guide me.
I know Jesse said there was a bear yesterday,
just down the street.
I know I have no protection.

But I'm at the edge of the woods now
and I feel them beckon
Is it the trees?
Is it me?
I have to walk this path.

I can feel each step
slower
more hesitant than the last
My stride, stalling

I'm getting closer
my eyes scan the darkness
frantically
producing shapes of beasts
that aren't there
I have to walk this path.

I flip my hood onto my back
I need to hear.
I stuff my  beanie into my pocket
I flex my ears to listen.
Every sense is at attention.
Is that my heart beat?

Far enough, I decide.
I stop to see
slow-falling snow.
A forest of dusky pines wavering in the wind.
A swirl berry sky.

My fear has turned to wonder.
My eyes are that of a camera
each blink-
the shudder of a snapshot.

I stop and look back
three times, on my way out
swearing to never forget
how exhilarating it is
to be alive.
I have to walk this path.
Sam Yarbrough
Written by
Sam Yarbrough  Lake Tahoe
(Lake Tahoe)   
398
 
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