This morning, a walk up Mount Wanda,
Summer brown – early this year.
Up the long path to the top –
A windmill, high and lonely,
Turns and listens
As the earth crunches beneath our feet,
As we circle, again and again,
The azure sky draped overhead.
Here, tired from the climb – our lives have led to this! –
We stop – and breathe.
Mary Elyn Bahlert, June 6, 2021
