Ever Green

Out of the wood
bucks exploded
flying across
the ancient path
that guided me
with seashells,
the pilgrim’s mark,
and Roman ruins.

Sweaty beasts
agily leaping
into the pine
their rush
spreading needles
across the path
drawing scent

Breathful they
still the air
quiet captive.

Pine sweat.
Pine scent.
Pine sweet.

Our shoes
knock concrete
my love always
looking to
buy trinquets
to soothe
time not spent
on same road.

Frasier fir wax
lit, reminiscent
of the ever
green of Spain
timeless beat
of a tramp
toward sacred.

Like the beast
he will come
and go so fast
leaving  me
to conjure
his stillness.

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