A Hike up a Hill

slanted paths of earth and mud
torn by wicked roots that have lost their way
rustling leaves laugh as shoes catch,
and toes are stubbed

the mocking laughter of the crow,
perched on his bough, scolding me
I pause to snap his picture,
and being a vain bird, he follows me

the way down is easier than the way up
but I prefer the strain
the reward is greater at the top of a mountain
than a tarmac road at the bottom

views spread before me like picture postcard treats
I could spend all day here
the city is down there somewhere
where it belongs,  but, I belong here.