is deep. a slosh of dirt
and rain,
the risen creek.
the fallen trees, the broken
rocks
the sand
the debris of woods
along the trail.
i press on.
my boots sinking
into the muck.
these prints will be here
for a long time,
or until the next storm
comes.
but i'm unworried
as dark approaches,
i see a clearing up ahead.
as i knew i would.
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