I come here with the hope that my insecurities will fade with the cell phone signal.
I come here with the hope that I will find enlightenment in the middle of the trees.
It is nearly sundown when I arrive, road weary, tense.
My tent poles won't stay in as I walk to the other side.
My dinner, cooking on the portable stove, topples over, the contents spilling onto the ground.
I've sworn to leave no trace of myself.
I wash away my spills. Erase my stains.
I drive away still no closer to enlightenment. I am still full of insecurities.
However, I look back and know that I have left no trace.