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Laughing Trees MAG
Late afternoon sun
streams
through
canopies of green leaves
reflecting
on water that
trickles
over rocks
and mossy logs
and crushed beer cans
and lighters
left by the unfortunate
souls
who couldn't feel the natural
highs
of the sights before them
Remnants
of an old stone wall
silver in the sunlight
envelop
the two of us
crude vines
embracing cold stone
a cackle from a crow
above
The castle lay
in ruins
Nevertheless -
it was ours.
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