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Cross Country


After the snow
I shuffle
on long narrow slats
of fiberglass
along an old
railroad bed,
rails hidden under
indentations in the snow
that run off
around the far bend,
true to their

I slide
in between
as a train
of one
on the easy path--
gliding left,
left, right
along these


With one ear
cocked behind
and one ahead
(lest an old
train make
its reappearance)
I press on,
then stop
to stick a pole
onto the iron rail
to feel
for the telltale
a divination rod
of sorts.


Around the graceful
turn that
wraps the hillside
is an opening
in the woods--
babbling sounds call--
I sidestep
into the forest
toward the river
with life.

Mar 01

© Copyright 2001, E. Granger-Happ, All Rights Reserved.

Contents - Lent, 2001

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Document last modified on: 03/21/2004

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