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I guess this is what being old means
struggling to top a hill
through woods bereft of summer's greens,
pitting pain against strong will.

But here I am shuffling along
just a few steps from the ridge top
listening to autumn's song.
At the peak I'll rest and stop,

Apex attained I stretch my back
then espy a big oak stomp
and since legs' muscles have grown slack
on it I carefully park my rump.

The sun is well past half its way
with storm clouds building in the west,
a pre winter kind of day.
Cool wind makes me close my vest.

Far below a river flows
through a valley shaded almost dark
when the northern winds blow cold
and shadows stretch out sharp and stark.

But for today I'll not go there
walking its cool and grassy meadows
and with passed friends laugh and share
in that valley of the deepest shadows.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


Nice rhyme, but I notice you do seem to use meter. I followed your trek with interest as you kept me in the poem. The last stanza gave me insight into your title as it is heavy in connotation.


The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight

It was good to have you come along on this trek and leave such kind comment

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