They march seemingly without tiring

always on a mission

charging straight over obstacles

looking neither right nor left

day dawned with gloomy skies

not from weather, from smoke

fires miles away, carried on the wind

fowling the air, leaving lungs burning

and silence

Air moist and still,

muggy and unmoving

life seeming to follow

air warm with clear sky

greeted us as we set out

the path familiar,

walked many times

yet always new

He is alone along the face

below the crest of the ridge

breaking fast on the sweet green

shoots and flowering plants

in the shade of the rock face