everywhere to be found
we searched
under rock and earth
and alongside the water’s edge
where the dying winds
welcomed the night
without a trace
you escaped the city
headed for a restless countryside
offering perspective
to tired old bones
in the woods
echoes follow every
footfall and heartbeat and thought
reshaping consciousness
from the very start
signals flare
from rugged elevations
seemingly shooting down stars
much too young to die
let alone live
early morning currents
meander your voice
throughout the valley’s curvatures
barely audible above
forgotten shadows
january two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
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