The Trail

(the 'Throne')

I come to you at last,

my secret refuge,

my final stand;

it is a journey I have

been making,

all my life;

you taste like chicken salad

sandwiches, and bottles

of Pepsi-Cola,

on the last day of school,

before summer break,

hot, July mornings,

your dad taking vacation,

as you mother packs the cooler,

for trips to ‘Deer Forest’ or

‘Tower Hill’,

sampling her potato salad,

wanting more;

never enough,

never enough;

time is running out,

it is there in every step,

every whisper,

every breath,

but it is okay,

we all arrive at this destination

eventually;

my spirit cries out,

just once more,

just once more,

but the body says no,

never again,

so you travel in your mind,

in your thoughts,

you remember the view,

the touch,

the feel,

you remember the cool breeze,

blowing on your face,

the crows cawing out,

the valley floor,

lying so far below,

the sun shining on your face;

you remember the quiet,

the solitude,

the peace;

you remember

the days gone by,

you see the road ahead,

with a sigh,

you start down the trail

leading home.

.

.