a shiver of unease
runs its course across
my shoulders, shudders
down a rocky spine
to dissipate
through fissures
in this sleeping
mountain
mine
a tear-traced
life of loves and losses
etching weathered walls
of this canyon-heart
exposure, all
scrub pine and
promises
where
days accumulate
as dust and grime
upon my skin, while
by night my compass
seeks an echo
in the slumber
of a million
resting
souls
← Joseph Schreiber
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