Late in the morning, with mist lingering across the valley's
floor, I make the slow climb, sweat running under hat, feet stirring up daimones of conceptual dust.

Walking the ridge trail, I reach a spot where I ask myself,
"Did I miss the way down? And, "It seems like I've been
living a very long time."

A mountain bike's wheels spin around the bend, its rider
yelling like a Valkyrie, "One more!" Then the one behind
her yells, "No more!"