by JD DeHart
no one bothered to tell
the weary traveler
that the inside of the mountain
was hollow, but he continued
anyway, leading his family
on, past the lagoons that might
have offered solace, past the plenty
and the promises, the grand
vineyards, the voices of gods,
to the intended destination,
now listening to the echo
resonate back to him, too far
to go back now.
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