Rose gold dawn, warm tent, and cold food.
Stiff muscles are reluctant to give way to sleepy conscience,
Knowing tens of miles separate sleep from rest.
And just ten minutes of warmth
Separates happiness from desperation.
Straps now tight, dawn slow, and muscles sluggish,
The crawl begins to become a walk.

Lunch breaks a productive gait.
The rose gold now daffodil yellow,
The day stretches a few feet longer.
Worked muscles begin to break,
Cadence commonplace, static scenery
Allows desperation to give way under sanguine ignorance.
The crux of the day rests on the pillow of night.

Climbing stars and falling sky dome the moonlit ground.
The miles have passed but a weary back has not.
Methodical wisdom produces a comfortable camp,
But no fire aides the pale blanket that the sky provides.
Quiet oversteps loneliness, as peace does dark.
Too late for fire, too early for sleep, eyelids droop closed
Tomorrow might be dawn or dusk.