And So I Walk...
I like to write, and so I walk,
seeking out the just-right idea or
image; inspiration to fold into a poem,
so someone might see what I see,
feel what I feel. Sometimes,
I hike for miles searching
for the perfect word,
or turn of phrase.
My favorite walking spot: the
reservoir trail, where inspiration
sparkles on water’s smooth surface,
tumbles intently over the falls,
peers out from periwinkles,
primps amid sweet peas, nests
among feather ferns, dances
in lady slippers, waits patiently
with the waif-like ghost plants.
I walk in rain and snow and fog,
sometimes stumbling upon
idyllic images glistening in the mist.
Pictures pour down on me with the rain
or blanket me in soft snowflakes. At
end of trail, I visit with a solitary pine,
guardian of the falls, who whis-
pers his secrets to me, and then,
I turn around, retracing my steps,
searching out something
I might have
PSC / Apr 2009