I love to walk the winding, hidden trail
among the tall mountains,
to breathe the air sprinkled with cottonwood seeds
floating, dancing, in the wind.
The trail in certain places is narrow, full of sharp rocks
the cliff it follows goes down
to the foamy river of danger.
Around the next turn I hesitate
this path, like the life I live,
has unsure shadows among the trees
bright sun-colored patches that light up the forest floor
a speckled meadow of wildflowers.
How I love to walk this trail.
I come to the end and continue on.