In 17 Syllables…
Over the valleyA dense fog settled. OnlyTo lift with the sun.
From Echo Lake toBarker pass. We walked for milesWith packs on our backs.
We inch closer with Each step. The pass looming inThe distance. Press on.
They gather. Darken.We plead with the clouds. Please don’t Rain on our parade.
In 17 Syllables... 