we're the ones using footprints
as poetry... or prophecy
as poetry... or prophecy
our words as rungs
vowing to climb all the years
counting births and burials
between then and now
fact: it's hard we don't know
if we'll hear hands answer
and clap us back
nervous, our fingers crossed
as we reread the fine print
of the universe
*************
Pic: KB came down to Lansing and I was SO happy to share my favorite woods with a favorite person.
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