the bog that darks
the mist that stings
the tree wind cracks
all sour night sings

the path winds dark and narrow
the clay clings heavy damp
our course fraught with treachery
ere we pass this night in camp

the air coats all
with layers sodden
if we were dry again
this miasm forgotten

yet we must push on
advance our weary line -
we will - if we're to live
and seek our canvas twine

the bog that darks
bitter fruit galls
the tree wind cracks
leaden curtain falls

the path winds narrow
the clay clings damp
coarse treachery
'fore this night we camp

10/15/2023