Younger days // pounds lighter // full of energy
I climbed the mountain at Hone Quarry
all the way to the top
where winds speak harshly
and pines bend and twist
downwind in their wake
I paused to rest // sitting still
eavesdropping on nature
whispering secrets
Today is Quadrille Monday, when we write a poem of exactly 44 words. Kim asked us to use the word eavesdrop in any form we like as our prompt. I decided to take my eavesdropping to the top of the mountain in the George Washington National Forest, in Virginia. I was amazed at how twisted the short scrub pines were up there. The wind up there never seems to stop blowing across the top. This is a train of consciousness poem.
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Photo: Dwight L. Roth
