18 August 2022

down the trail

the shadows are deep on the path ahead 

no voices are heard in the deep midday gloom 

but I press on for the trail must be traveled 

the narrow steps forward between me and home 

I hear not a sound save the hum of a fly and 

the scent of pine needles tickles my nose 

I drink in the forest enjoying the cool 

of the tall prickly sentinels that hush 

the brash sunshine before me behind me 

the way twists and turns and trees without number 

march mile upon mile as mind mind flits far 

I shiver a moment and sidestep some scat 

wondering now how solo I am really 

could the trunks become glass how near 

would I see that cougar or that bear observing 

my way then a breeze comes again just a sigh 

like an echo I remember the shadows 

so like the veil and could all fade away 

alone I would never be

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