Mount Battie Mist
The bedrock, slick with moisture, presented a puzzle for my feet, clad in the worn sole sneakers that were the only shoes I had left.
In the wake of the greatest betrayal of my life, I fled, homeless, to the foot of Mount Battie and began to climb. The winds were from the ocean that day, blowing through Camden, Maine and rising up to the summit of the mountain, pervading the woods.
The bedrock, slick with the moisture, presented a puzzle for my feet, clad in the worn sole sneakers that were the only shoes I had left.
