The Finish

There’s still some anxiety
To being caught by sunset,
Even in a peaceful place,

Even with good equipment
For traveling through the dark.
The diurnal mind recalls

How ancestors were winnowed,
How anxiety evolved.
This could all get difficult.

This could all get dangerous.
One hopes for kindly spirits
Or addresses some savior,

Or just tries to stay alert.
If these woods swallow the sun
Before you’re all done, you’re done.