Free Verse
Sunday Walk
walking in the fog up a mountain path
unlike the desert
the silence is
oppressive cotton in my ears…
heart pounding rapidly
slushy sound of wet leaves underfoot
thoughts…
reflections as I walk the mountain path
dangling converstions
words unsaid
‘should have saids’
from days gone by.
cold penetrates into my jacket
feet wet
brain numb
along the path a drop of water falls
splashing on my head
is solitude a choice
or is that just how I’m made?
white light of fog
trees outlined in black
a picture someone else painted
of anquish
of peace
depending when I look at it.
a bird rustles in a tree
in the distance
a plane
coming from Spain perhaps
or from Africa
the day grows old
the fog seems to lift
as higher I climb…
going always forward
never looking back
where’s the sense of my existence?
where’s the sense in yours?
a single ray of sunlight
rips into the fog
the black trees are black no more
for a second
the time to take a breath
then its gone.
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