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I left the house a bit ago
and now am near my destination
So I begin to drive slow
then stop with little hesitation
here where mixed woods soar and grow.

Stiffly I exit from my truck
inhaling all the scents of fall
With a little bit of luck
in coming hike I will not fall
or wander into a swamp's muck.

Autumn blossoms color roadsides gold
with golden rod and ragweed flowers
and a few frost flowers blue and bold
open from the last night's showers
whose watering will soon turn old.

A logging road twists through these trees
but today I'll go where no roads wind
and enjoy the worm sun's merest tease
leaving frets and worries behind
setting a course for where I please.

A few yard from the roadside ditch
I see mushrooms poking out
And if not careful I'll soon itch
from poison ivy all about.
I'm wary to avoid that glitch.

I note sassafras's is turning now
Signaling a coming frost.
Soon the sun flowers will bow
as cool winds leave the tree tops tossed.
The same breezes cool my wrinkled brow

I slowly shuffle through the duff
in near silence for its damp.
For an old guy this stroll is tough
But I still go on with this tramp
(time to rest comes soon enough)

A squirrel barks, I stop and look,
then spot him high up in a tree
on a bluff beside a middling brook.
I note he's not looking at me
rather, below the path I took.

Still as a statue (One which sways)
my gaze takes in all around
then among the browns and grays
a red fox checks his hunting ground
the barking squirrel the only sound.

Just as he leaves a flock of crows
pass and alight in a near field
around which an old fence row grows.
The field has given up its yield
stubble is all that it now grows.

Their lookout perches up a tree
and lets loose when I resume my quest.
I should have brought my staff with me.
Hindsight is every time the best
I learn from my aching knee.

And there ahead I spy a shed,
an antler from a last year buck.
I am likely near is bed
A quarter mile from my red truck.
I pick it up and thank my luck.

I walk on to a little glade,
sit on a log to take a rest
soaking up all nature made.
To walk no farther would be best.

Sun tells me its mid after noon.
Geese tell me that they're southward bound.
I know that I will leave here soon.
Far off I hear a running hound
baying out in his base tune.

He runs until he's out of range.
I rise and decide its time to leave.
Wondering why the day seems strange.
It's almost like I should grieve.
Perhaps I am near My own range.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Feels a bit strange to be entering a contest that I am eligible to win lol, I am also fully aware this poem is Way too long and fully expect it to be disqualified
Editing stage: 


2nd stanza 4th line something does not read right very descriptive writing
does this not exceed the word limit though?

Let your mercy spill on all those
burning hearts in hell( L.Cohen)

I've tweaked that line a bit. And Yes this poem is far too long and I fully expect to be disqualified. But when i start some poems I have no idea how or when they will end. This is one such and I have no idea how to shorten it nor how to remove it from contest in the event I manage to write a shorter poem for contest

author comment

I'm with C Lynn brooks on this one, line 9.
I like walking with you , but this time I feel you are leading me up the garden path with the line law of the competition. lol
Great imagery though.

Thank you...Teddy

As I said above I Expect to be disqualified because this scribble is Way beyond length parameters. But I enter for sharing and for fun, not to win

author comment

you alone are now the oldest
neo poet-master

keep it uppppppppppppp

Keep it up huh? Well I've yet to have That problem (wink wink) lol

author comment

Hello, Scribbler,
This was like walking by your side through the landscaping, knowing your memories and thoughts, your comforts and simple joys. Your last stanza is very quiet. Lovely.
Thank you,

I am always pleased to have people accompany me on my musings.

author comment
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