after the rain finished

before the dark
came and obliterated all
delineation of form
everyone left
following the small path upwards   merely a
goat track
hewed out of rock   if they slipped
in the half light
jumping	        from one level to another,
knees bent   unbent   they
leaned on poles	       of hazel wood   to
make them steady   sturdy
now stumbling   now sure
of the way
possibilities   of reaching the top
quietly   and quickly
rose in their hearts
sounds of small animals
tracking   through the
underbrush   just out of reach
vague hoots of owls
worrisome   in their persistence
examined consciences
yet on they trekked
zealous   in the dusk