[Getting harder to write. Very tired. Struggled with this one. It shows!]
When I arrive
the trail through the woods
has been paved –
bringing confidence
to those
with an unsteady or assisted gait, no doubt
Yet manufacturing
a tidy
that belies the fallen twig,
the squabbling birds
The unforgiving thwack
underfoot
Too hard for a long hike
The edges –
falling off abruptly
defining and delimiting
This path –
how far could it go?
The deep woods are not veined
with asphalt.
Before, coming here
was a return
boundaries fading
a place that was easy
Now, I resent the encroachment
even as I question my own trespass
My quitting this place
this loss
perhaps an unintended protection?
What is taken/what endures
This, the walk.
Oh my. For being a struggle, you have come up with a good one. The word pictures are great. I especially like the line “I resent the encroachment
even as I question my own trespass.”
Rework it if you feel so inclined. I think it would be anthology worthy.
Thank you!