Four slender pine planks cloak the mountain side,
peaking over the cascading evergreens,
hosting my curious eyes,
drifting beyond the foreseeable horizon.

Sunshine fades into twilight,
Mountains dim into obsidian,
Eagles swoon into the swaying masts of lumber,
Lamplight expands my dominion.

Quill in hand I inscribe whispers of the wind,
Speaking of some long forgotten loved ones,
Forever lingering in undiscovered caves,
waiting, waiting only to be ignored.

Their cries echo to the precipice,
Wilting in the breeze,
Only to be uttered, fleetingly, among the tide torn seas,
waiting, searching for man to hear their pleas.

As my pages croak for a sealing kiss,
The gusts give way to a lucid stall,
Taunting of the morrow,
My regard lulls into a fall.