#4: Morning in Haiku

When at last the sun
rose, we couldn't remember
being so scared.

But the whole night, through
the wind and the cold and what
sounded like animals

sniffing at the sides
of the tent, we slept little
if we slept at all.

Underneath us, spread
out for miles, a canyon of
red rocks that wasn't

visible when we
pitched our tent last night was just
being touch by the sun.

We built a fire
with little fuss. We ate. Then
it was time to go.

Issue Six Index