Elizabeth Hazen

Shadows Cross

I leave the trail and climb to a mossy outcrop not far away. From here I can watch the woods. A three-inch millipede passes. Another. Another. Eleven.

a thousand feet
above sea level
wild columbine

Below me a red fox trots along the trail I just left. Scarcely a minute later a man and dog go the opposite way, walking in the very footprints.

empty snake skin
the tips of ferns
still curled

Nothing happens. Dog and man miss the fox. Dog and man and fox miss me. The millipedes miss each other and the rest of us. Perhaps we are all on different planes.

trail of birch pollen
bird shadows cross
each other