We don't have to walk far Under the cover of canopy To find exposure. Once outside the city, Outside the usual framework, Outside the boundaries of polite necessity, We can truly breathe. On the trail I bathe in dust And my hands converse with trees When asking for support. Nursing logs remind us Where we stand In an ancient cycle, And we can confess anything. Stripped down to our bare humanity. It's the intimacy I used to chase in pillow-talk, But without the dance. The trail is always a soul's journey, Whether solo or shared.