Summer—
It just found me
old state forest
tall wise trees.

Dipped into
large tidal river running.

Still woods
silvery trunks so straight and smooth
leaves rattle and sigh.

Field of tall grasses
splashes of wildflowers
goldenrod
ragweed.

Merry painter
wearing summer cap.

We start to climb
a long hill but
now
places change.

Saw-teeth and tread roll
out the wide wheels
groaning and whining
branches break.

Where are we climbing to?