The creek rushes around me.
Fading into background noise,
then returning.
I wander alone through the
dried reservoir,
rocks and dirt rising up around me,
holding me in its cavernous embrace.
the deer prance sixty feet down.
I want to run after them,
frolic with them in the dirt.
âDo you think theyâd run away,
if I approached?â
ââŚ.yeah.â
I look into their beady eyes
and wish I could say âIâm not one of the ones
who wants to hurt you.â
Instead I turn back to the rocks,
at our ropes and our gear and our helmets.









































