One hot spring day not many years past,
not so many as to have labeled me young,
but enough to have still been steady of pace
I grew restless within abode's walls
and set out on a quest.

So in my old truck I went
(Not my old red one, this one was gold)
down almost every type of road.
Hectic four lane highway, two lane blurry asphalt
through a few small towns
bypassing a sleepy southern city.
Finally a country road
which became gravel.
My kind of road.

There was this particular spot
I had driven past last fall
which at the time I had no time for.
But now I had a plethora of time
to see
what wooded secrets within
might be.

So I exited the truck and air conditioning
breaking out in instant sweat,
but heat is the second name of piedmont
South Carolina once frosts are gone.

Off through the mysterious woods I went
mainly brooding pines but scattered copses
of ancient hardwood trees randomly mixed in.

Expectations of nothing
for these are notional forest lands
where men only visit now
for decades
and decades
........a Long time.
No abandoned fading roads
no crumbling chimneys or stone foundations.
Not even washed out terraces.

Just woods perchance going down hill.
So down I followed
eventually to a low bluff above a lazy stream.
The bluff top made for easy walking
so I followed it and watched the sun
sparkle off accompanying creek.
Seeing last year's buck rubs here and there,
causing some spring squirrels to scold me
and keeping eyes peeled for snakes.

Then I saw it.
Drooping from either side of an aged cedar
trapped within years of growth
( likely more years that I had accrued)
Barbed wire,
The old kind made of twisted metal strapping.
Barbs stamped in not woven on.

So.. the last remnant of a fence.
and I looked both ways but saw no more.
Just this one tree holding onto the past
Telling me
its secret
that even in such a remote place
there are tales to be seen
by those who look.