Elegos

Late fall

hike up

Wolf Mountain-

the dog leading as the inveterate

pathfinder

on a trail obscured by

fallen leaves.

Both  panting

as we summit,
drop the pack

and set up the tripod.

The viewfinder reveals 

one solitary birch or perhaps poplar

alone in color-

as if stoically

waiting for its own defoilation
 surrounded by those
disembodied and bare-

who like believers,
have shed their burdens in places of worship.

I am momentarily reminded of Bukowski’s

lament:

“You get so alone at times that

it just makes sense.”
K. Carter