a flow like waves upon the shore

ceaselessly rising and falling

one crest born from another dying

ocean’s water all the same

breathe

shadows in the trails now discard their secrets

ones they’ve gathered from migrating birds

industrious squirrels, and scurrying insects too small to see

these fall to rest in colorful array among leaves

there to slip into stories of unsuspecting travelers

walkers, through-hikers, and bikers on their way too quickly

so that when they next talk in casual conversation

or even engage in discourse profound

their speech will be changed by the lives of others

intangible subtle different threads

memories woven together with those of spiders