Before the sun broke o'er the mountain tops
Shadowy figures striding side by side
A steady cadence of footsteps striding
Rhythmic breaths of air breaking the still dawn.
Perhaps a new route will be seen this morn
Or the old and familiar will be worn
Familiar yes, but not always the same
The ambiance has changed since last I came.
Mornings repast of these I do so miss
Tries to fill with other things have all failed
Soon these days shall occur without remiss
Though when these days shall reappear is veiled.
Until then, I'll learn the skill of repose
And take time to stop and smell a rose.
I can almost feel like I'm there, walking through the mountain mist. Also, my hat is off to you, simply because you said "o'er". ;)
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