the steepness of the hill

leaves you out of breath

hands on knees

then clasped on top

your sweaty head

steam rising off and around you

mingling with the ground fog

breath of earth

beneath the oaks

the fox that watched 

your ascent 

slips quickly through 

the underbrush in silence.

© Erik Hansen 2017


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Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing

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