More poems for Express It In Eight.
When the world was young
my father and I set out many times
to climb the mountain,
walking upward through the forest at its foot
‘midst the light dappled by the filtering leaves
across clear cold streams of whisky hue,
picking mushrooms in the mulch of eternity,
we never came to the summit.
Line Count: 8
For Express It In Eight, February 05 2021