He stood alone,

Because he was empty.

His head tilted up to the path of grey sky,

The roar of the river in his ears,

Bouncing off of the canyon walls.

The smell of cold pine and rocks and sadness filtering through the trees.

Thoughts trickled through his mind like the scent of Queen Anne’s lace and mint and daisies and cold wet earth,

Smooth river stones ground into his frozen and numb feet

And a deep ache settled through him like the ache of the cold.

Inside himself where the trees whispered and sighed,

Where his heart pounded like the river and his mind circled like the birds stirring the clouds above.

Where the emptiness was filled suddenly,

With a powerful swirl of rushing water.

When he was lifted by the current.


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