Fog formed shadows lurk behind the trees,
bare footsteps again, staff in hand,
pants soaked starting down from my knees
where coat ends and the water it sends
wets the cotton from top and not the bottom
though my feet were wet from the first step
off concrete and on to grass...
Down the path cut during construction,
little signs left of the swatch of destruction
they laid across woods small patch here
to build rows of identical townhouses there
Forgotten concrete catch basins, filling and drying,
massive pipes of ponderous weight
rolled down this slope to where they're now lying
Huge mats of linked rubber meant to keep ground covered
when explosions rolled like thunder
as they tore homes from the rock
atop a windy hill they picked and gouged
hootin' and howlin' till they had cleared a way...
Off trail, from mud soaked track
where rushing water cleared the path,
taking leaves, leaving mud
A wet vacuum of a sort
dried by the wind's laugh
Now wet leaves wash my feet,
as fog rises i feel its heat...
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