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LAST LEG

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.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: South Carolina, United States, USA

Favorite Poets: Frost, Burns, Longfellow, Poe, and Johnson. I guess you've noticed these are all past masters. Other than folks on site I don't read any contemporary poets .

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Comments

Geezer

Geezer

7 years 7 months ago

Ahhh yes...

Time marches on down the trail, I guess it keeps going even if we lag behind. Hey! Wait for me!
~ Gee.
.

S

scribbler

7 years 7 months ago

Hi Gee

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

IRiz

IRiz

7 years 7 months ago

I relate to the message

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.

S

scribbler

7 years 7 months ago

Hi Riz

Young people never appreciate time do they?