I pass sweet scented bushes on my trek to hike trails,
I listen to songs. I see the cobalt blues and pinks
of early morning predawn skies. Then sunrise.
The familiar places, benches to rest, to drink,
to ponder, sometimes to listen
and to think about nature.
No talking. I write notes in my book,
a poem about this ravine I dare not cross,
about rocks for stepping or tripping.
About finding happiness outside my comfort zone,
as they say in the voice of cliché,
about what’s a name or identity. Am I what I did?
And the viper, that snake may not allow
my passage as he or she sunbathes
and the morning warms its cold blood.
Look both ways, but tread with care. Mind the gaps where vipers rest.
Our Literary Journey 
A comforting poem to open my day. Beautifully conceived and written, Bill.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Marilyn. The snake let me pass but it’s been a tough weekend and now it’s raining 🌧.
LikeLike
Snake came along at the right time just so she could be in your poem. 😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
LOL 😂 nobody was there to hear me. She let me pass. But dang. She needs to get contrasting skin with next shedding.
LikeLike
NO STEP ON SNEK!!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nope. It upsets them.
LikeLike
This was lovely, Bill.
And good to see (hear?) the snake before inadvertently finding yourself compromised!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Dale. The snake was fine, but I was (and am) a bit worried that it was stretched across the trail and I almost stepped on it. That tends to upset them. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
No kidding…and we do NOT want an upset rattler in our midst!
LikeLiked by 1 person