by Kevin Irie
The new trail was the same route to
old disappointments. Letting you lead,
I followed my sense
of what you shouldn’t see
skidding, slipping down mud,
gravel. Inept like so many times before,
confidence was a path
my life seldom followed.
Of course, I wouldn’t say this.
We had reached the summit, the view
looked filled as a small pail of milk.
The truth remained
too big for the moment.
— from Juniper Volume 2, Issue 3