My mouth is as slimy as a warm snail.
Walking down the mountain navigating
Sharp rocks and the loose snapping sticks lying
In wait to strike at my legs on the trail
All that is wet is oozing out of me.
My forehead drips, drips soak my shirt, armpits
And chest. Drops add up close as notes birds sit
To sing turn into song. I kneel to be
Nearer the cold spring, reach dipping my hand
Bringing up a palm of it to my mouth
Gulp and dip and gulp till I’ve had enough
Splashing all of my face as the deer and
Green flies settled to drink my drying sweat
Fly off again. The end of thirst is rest.
Drawings by Akram