Brian Horner

the chainless youth

scenes from deep within the Iron Mountains
A wooded peninsula jutted out
into the glassy lake
The humid air was chilled
to a cool 79 degrees in the heart of dawn

Quiet
Lost
We were not prepared to
delve into tomorrow
We enjoyed the blind light
which the present tense
offered to us

There were no fish
No bites
No teasing
just the silence of morn

We prepared to leave
taking the stakes out of the dew ridden ground
Rolling tents and
putting small fires out

there were no more specific plans
besides venturing further
into the Carolinas

What worry of money?
We will get by.
What worry of jobs?
We will look for one when we get back.

We were still young enough
to be able to block out

practical noise