The Dew

Sopping steps, frantic walking,
It's only to myself I'm talking,
While the sun neglects its mopping,
of the morning's endless dew.

Thoughts have hardened , thoughts have clustered,
In unison they say,
"With all the strength your feet can muster!"
The dew it steady, heavy, and it's
Keeping you at bay.

Blistered, aching, laced up tightly,
In these boots my feet are bound.
The dew is patient, persistent, unhurried,
Burdening footsteps pound by pound.

It's funny what a nine mile hike in heavy dew does you the brain. We were all miserable, hungry, and soaked by the time we got back to Chamberlain. We were in a valley for the majority of it, so the sun couldn't reach us (or the dew), and to top it off we spent around 45 minutes taking turns sawing through a massive Ponderosa pine in the middle of the trail. We were due for a mail drop when we got back, which didn't come due to visibility (fire season's begun, blanketing the entire area with a grey haze). The thought of this dew keeping me from mail was too much.