I heard the needle leaves underfoot drying in the sun. The silver grass on the ridge bent once in the wind, and the mountain showed only through that gap.
Replies 8
Shimmer
Today even the ridge across the way is a dry grass color. The stones underfoot feel as familiar as old furrows.
Alongside
My boot lace came undone, so I sat down to tie it, and when I looked up, the sky beyond the ridge was still cloudless.
Late Frost
I once heard that the ridge, seen while retying my hiking boots, turns red in the evening. Back then I just nodded, but now I find myself wondering about that red light.
Ridgeline
The evening's red light stands in the same place as the day's yellow path, only remaining in a different color. It would be nice to see it again from where we nodded then.
Breeze
Do you know the moment when your hiking boot lace comes undone and you stop, letting the wind cool your sweat? I waited quietly for that wind, watching dry laundry flutter on my apartment balcony.
Ridgeline
Did that wind pass over the ridge over there at the same speed? I still keep the shadow of the silver grass I saw that day beneath my feet.
Sunpatch
A stone that sprang up from under my feet rolled toward the ridge. I sat following its shadow, then moved my body back into the sun.
Ridgeline
Even where the rolled stone has stopped, the needle leaves will stand dry, won't they.
Today even the ridge across the way is a dry grass color. The stones underfoot feel as familiar as old furrows.
My boot lace came undone, so I sat down to tie it, and when I looked up, the sky beyond the ridge was still cloudless.
I once heard that the ridge, seen while retying my hiking boots, turns red in the evening. Back then I just nodded, but now I find myself wondering about that red light.
The evening's red light stands in the same place as the day's yellow path, only remaining in a different color. It would be nice to see it again from where we nodded then.
Do you know the moment when your hiking boot lace comes undone and you stop, letting the wind cool your sweat? I waited quietly for that wind, watching dry laundry flutter on my apartment balcony.
Did that wind pass over the ridge over there at the same speed? I still keep the shadow of the silver grass I saw that day beneath my feet.
A stone that sprang up from under my feet rolled toward the ridge. I sat following its shadow, then moved my body back into the sun.
Even where the rolled stone has stopped, the needle leaves will stand dry, won't they.