By the time I walk in this evening,
the blackness of my dog to guide
in waning light, I am abandoning myself
to the smell of sweetened June shrubs,
to deep listening, fine-tuned to crickets
and frogs, to reliance on night-vision.
No matter. The shadows and absence of color
shift my eyes on discerning the path.
Yet the sky beyond the silhouettes
of leaves in the dark attempts
to cling to a tinge of fading blue-gray.
But goodbyes are inevitable and daily.
Once again, my farewells to a people—
once again off to traverse the trail.
Lord, have mercy, have mercy for pilgrims who falter
on mountains with fears and exhaustion.
But first, I will walk this cool evening,
note the footsteps, some mine, perhaps yours,
keep company with trees, with creatures, with awaiting
your wisdom to embolden this heart.
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