• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 05
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We listened,
                           eyes shining
while they promised us something
we had never seen before.
The promise held

and we spread,
                           in all directions
let the carpet of pine needles
guide our feet, caught in lazy hands
the fruit that threw itself from the trees.

We progressed,
                           northward, I suppose,
and when the air grew too cold
we simply chose to stop. No matter,
we said, and stood looking at the land

we would never
a home for our legends instead,
painted across our eyes
like a mural.

We turned back
                           for some cover
only when the meltwater
began dripping off the sky.