Night Hike
We had set out boldly, backpacks
in hand, no flashlight, trusting in
the crunch of aluminum, squeak of cold,
the teardrop-shaped remnants we left behind.
Our breath in billows, as
trees take shape out of a dark horizon.
Under them I feel swallowed,
lost, and lonely. My ankles ache where
I've broken through crust.
We've come far,
but what am I doing out here?
Proving I am unafraid of shadows?
I shiver, you keep walking.
We do not speak, overwhelmed,
I suppose, by how black
the night can be. We often forget.
And yet, through the easy darkness of
the woods, through the misshapen canopy
of maples, like tiny incandescent bulbs,
come stars.
Julia Lewandoski
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