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I've been upon this trail so long
and walked its winding way
while composing my life's song
among Carolina's thick red clay.

Ever upward is the march
with scarce level stretches there for rest
through forests of both oaks and larch.
Each step seemed just one more test.

I seldom look but when I do
the path that seemed to wander like a cow
with benefit of my rear view
leads straight to where I am right now.

At last, after so many years
a glimpse of the final peak's in sight.
Should this bring me joys or fears
as evening slowly becomes night?

But here comes another stride,
just like so many ones before.
There's little reason now to hide
there likely won't be many more.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
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Time marches on down the trail, I guess it keeps going even if we lag behind. Hey! Wait for me!
~ Gee.

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I'm presently resting a spell before my final leg of the journey lol

author comment

The impersonal, cruel, unavoidable fact of finitness of life is poetically transformed into a sight of a tired hiker and into a turning evening. Thank you for your lines.


Young people never appreciate time do they?

author comment

Yes I think it is a sign of maturity


amen to that scribbler

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