Elizabeth R.

Tramping In Circles

Heavy smells of rotted leaves,
A deadening silence
Surrounded by thick fog,
Which confuses all movement
Through the soggy brush.
Tramping in circles.

Cold runs through my bones,
And my clothes are damp,
But I do not shiver.
Although this road is dreary,
I may never be able to enjoy it again.
Tramping in circles.

The thick clouds split apart.
A small ray of sunshine creeps through the canopy,
Illuminating my face and taking away my worries.
Content with this gloomy day,
I will follow wherever my feet take me
Tramping in circles.






[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2009 EDITION]


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