There is an old road where I like to walk It winds itself through columns of tall trees, Up and down the once densly wooded hills. Sometimes the trail is bumpy filled with rocks, The places that the crews had given up, Back to the stones the dirt had once come from. "Nobody's ever going to live up there," They said. And so they let the trees grow in. They didn't know what loggers' saws could do To those old woods. The trees, they were cut down And left the hillsides all covered with stumps, Dead gravestones to the age that was before. One day I took a walk on that dirt path, Stopping to look around a certain bend, Where ancient gnarled maples lined one side And young ones on the other. But their limbs Joined hands together up above the road. Where went the road from here? I did not know. Maybe a steep descent, I'd reached the top. Perhaps it wound itself up farther still. I did not know. But still that road I walked Not knowing where it ended, nor how far.
Reason for writing:
The first part of the poem was inspired by a road near my
house. The second (One day I took a walk.....) is about a
picture that I took on that road.
Birth sign: Taurus
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