The mountain was so long ago. Yet, I feel its pulse throbbing under foot -- into my ever-loving sole. [You thought I was going to say: "everlasting soul," didn't you? Do you think my soles inconsequential in comparison to my soul?] Nothing is firmer or finer than the point at which I touch (& know) the earth, than the point which presses the real, and, thus, by which I have evidence that I live. [The ghost feels nothing in its soles -- if such a being exists.] These lowly old soles connect me to all that is, was, and ever shall be.
Sole Connection [Free Verse]
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