a note*

Everything I post here I have previously published on the many other blogs I have had. This is a place for my favourites to rest. These are the wings that taught me i could fly and that there is life waiting, far beyond the ridge.

If you care to comment, just drop me an email at grayhawk77@yahoo.com


Monday, July 9, 2012

remembering walks

Back in the day, a younger day, I used to walk alot in Minnesota winters. I would go out about midnite on full moon nights, to state parks and spend hours among the whatever. Did a lot of solo winter camping, too. Dogsledding. Stuff like that. Somewhere I lost that and this is me remembering. Regretting.

I like to walk
Hands fisted,
In coat pockets
Watching the path

I miss it
Not really knowing
When or why
It stopped
I just did

Like so many
Other things
That once were me
But now
Just someone who was

The mind likes dancing
To the shoes lead
My thoughts knew peace
And troubles never kept up
Bored, I suppose

Snowy woods,
My favourite.
Big flakes, small sounds
Friendly skies
And Big Mac wrappers
That follow us everywhere

Even they bring a smile
Feckless litter
Tempting the fox,
A smell without taste

A midnite moon
The best
Full and white
Casting shadows
That explode and expose

A rest on a hillside
Against the trees lean
The mind makes sense
All the crazies
That danced on the highway
Cannoned to the black

The heart and mind
Nod in agreement
That sanity remains
A hope within grasp

Deep in woods
Far from roads
Twenty below
Warms from
Quiets furnace

Edison and Bell
Ford too,
At the glen’s edge
But here.
Here, is no signal
No pumps
No signs
Just me
And it
And they
And we accept each other
At least,
Til mornings light

For a spell,
I’ll be different
Outside the loop
A little wiser
Or so seeming

Why do we leave
The things that matter
And hold to the lies
That hold us captive
Binding the spirit

I miss the walks
I miss what was
And what might have been
And the simple wisdom
That drove me