Red, orange, and yellow provide unusual warmth
Along the fair trail with the fair view.
We cut past Fiddler's Elbow
With a scurry up an inclined plane.
Pain intensifies in my quads not of steel
But of bronze mixed with clay.
Trees and rocks, once just that, are lifelines.
The cold keeps me awake
But the exertion causes me to perspire.
Almost sick, I nearly face a flashback.
But we reach the inviting Appalacian Trail
And descend the rocky ridge
To a divine sunrise.
Just another day in the life of my second family.
