You see, here, along the northeast…
a mile is forever on a country lane
In the arm’s of nature, Mother’s face, prolongs my existence.
Her silhouette disheveled, fetal and beyond my wandering.
I felt that one step forward and one step back only released my defects.
This lonely, disparaged pond and her trail praises those that are rampant, quiet and egotistically…frail.
…
So, I come back down (always) a downy lane.
Snowy, horizontally.
Bluster and sustain-ably sane.
Still a history still….not so plain.
