With Spring the fog breaks,
The misty remains fall to the earth
Smote by the palest sunlight
The tracks become clear,
The path is no longer blurred by questions.
Long straights pointing South
(I knew it all along as I strode these Northern hills)
But suddenly the curve is upon me.
The redwoods beckon
And I have given my answer.
9 comments:
Haunting
boo.
i will console myself with a walk to get a sandwich with you.
despite having a bad attitude, i want you to know that this writing is really good. a very apt and beautiful metaphor.
so, my rusty train-track soul, we've shared an awfully scenic ride.
i support everything in you. including the south part.
Wow, stunning.
Is it strange that I would love to inhabit this graveyard?!
happy trails to ya :)
Rich in Color,
Rich in Love!
M
I love rust.
and this scenic ride is far from over.
...a locomotive cemetery...how hauntingly beautiful...
lovely colors...words...I could see myself look through the carts and step over the tracks...
...and off you go:)
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