The Descent

You can leave your sins at the shelter 

On the top of the Priest

For sections of trail you never completed

And the food you stole  

For all the heavy stories you need no longer carry 

Through crunching November memory and leaves

But we have no time for confessions today

Step out towards descent and down

Where the winding path becomes our prayer

Our confession and absolution

As we turn away from the sun

Cold shivering wind over the ridge

Until we turn back warm faces lit by sun’s rays

37 turns back and forth 

Turning

Returning

Down the Priest

Descending into grace 

And clarity that our trek must end

Before pushing on, ascending the next ridge,

The prospect of two, three more nights 

Falling freezing temperatures

We are not prepared for this

For the good of the group,

Time to call it a hike, give thanks 

And wonder, 

Now what?