Thursday, June 29, 2017

Chicot Hiker by Ken LaRive

Chicot Hiker

Warmed over coffee, power bars,
Cool clear night of colored stars.
Repellent scent on earthy bed,
Leaves like stick pins on my head.

Cold camp fire, lunar moths,
Bubble brook of rainbow froth.
Owls hoot, coyote sighs,
Phosphor trace of fire flies.

Amber sunlight, morning breeze,
Dew soaked boots on amber leaves.
Golden flowers, sunlit trees,
Glinting flash of bumble bees.

Mossy carpets, fern leaf sails,
Rooted steps on winding trails.
Creaking leather, marching men,
Dancing leaves on laughing wind.

Band-aid blisters, shirt sleeve torn,
Waist high brush of berry thorn.
Cooling shade, a sunny patch.
Khaki canvas packs file past.

Machete blade, a hiking stick,
Over rotted logs we pick.
Compass map, we fork to right,
Gleam of Chicot lake in sight.

Sun is done, our camp is made,
Rest our bones in twilight shade.
Puff of pipe, a purple moon,
Distant echo of the loon.

Stories told, a starry sky,
Glowing embers flicker high.
Supper cups, hydrated packs,
All are snug within our sacks.

“Gunner”, my dog, a tired night,
Returned to curl by firelight.
Sleepy pawing, muffled bay,
Adventure dreaming of the day.

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