A town beneath the shadow of a thumb.
A mighty thumb of splintered stone atop
a pleasant hike wound through thick needles clumped
on twisted rough-barked arms, through boulder crops.

We posed in cotton shorts and Ts beside
a giant wooden sign upon a wall
of river rocks so smooth and cool we liked
to hug and pat it like a pet or doll.
Me first up winding trail, crisp dried pine air!
Me first through sprinkling sunlight, proud I’m there.

AMW

[Bartleby’s Poetry Corner]