Yellow-brown leaves litter the way
crackling and rustling underfoot
melting into the mud
enriching the earth.
Over-ripe berries polka-dot the pavement
popping beneath the pressure of my steps.
Cold breeze against my face
up my nostrils and in my lungs.
The blinding sun sitting on the horizon
fighting to climb higher in the sky.
Old stumpy hides on the hilltop
rotting away and over-grown
overlooking the town
providing a platform for prayer
space for silence
my high place