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FLEEING TOWARD AN END

Once more my tires make gravel roar
in heated rush toward a retreat,
to some place I've not been before,
in advance of the spring's coming heat.

Too many days cooped in the house,
too many nights of T.V.s screen,
too many sharp looks from my spouse.
It's time that something fresh is seen.

After perusing a worn map
of places that I've been before
(nearly causing a mishap)
I toss map out of the door.

I turn right instead at next road
that, by chance, is marked "dead end"
which never has borne my truck's load.
Who knows how far this track might wend?

And speed descends from sprint to walk
not only due to ruts and such.
One must be slow when in a stalk
seeing all just means so much.

Though winter, there's still much to see :
shadows shifting in the wind,
a flock of starlings in a tree...
New visions come with each road bend,

It also seems that with each turn
the grayness lifts within my mind
and a smile replaces lips once stern;
creased brow is smoothed by gravel's grind.

Into my thoughts the old days enter,
younger days before I knew
that every life has its own winter
and loss of many I once knew.

And now my road begins descending
as hardwoods replace the ridges' pine.
The change in landscape now is lending
a change in mood from coarse to fine.

A last switchback reveals the plain
of a creek I've never seen before.
This journey has not been in vain.
It's locked dark thoughts behind some door.

I stop when the road attains the plain
preferring not to push my luck
'cause I've too often known the pain
as well as strain of getting stuck.

Door open, I step to the ground
and promptly slip on silty duff.
When done falling, I look around
then laugh, although the laughter's gruff.

I carefully regain my feet,
reach in truck bed and grasp my staff
then lean on it as knee pains beat
which I disregard with a low laugh.

For I'm forging onward to the creek
along this road grown treacherous
before the sun becomes too weak.
Boot snags a root, I softly cuss.

At times like this, years weigh on me.
Legs try to keep up with my mind.
"You'll do it once more!" I decree
as I leave aging truck behind.

Soon the stream is back in view
and with it remnants of a bridge.
(Some pylons and a board or two)
along with the sight of far side's ridge.

I go on to the bridge site's edge
then peer both down and up the stream.
The farther bank is thick with hedge
where road continues like a dream.

The bank's too steep, water's too wide.
I've gone far as I can today.
One day soon I'll walk that other side.
Perhaps that's where old memories play.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

The other side you make it seem almost desirable, in reality we seem to be rushing there to soon. Another great stroll in your world, it sounds great. Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

I expect that when one reaches a certain stage in life it might well be more desirable than the side we're on right now. I'm proud of myself to have conveyed the secondary level for a change. Thanks for dropping by............stan

author comment

you want (as) far as?

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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I had tried it both ways but that extra "AS" seemed to mess up the rhythm. But your comment gave me impetus to review the entire last stanza which lead to a minor change in L-1. Funny how synergy works isn't it?.......stan

author comment

Once again you have made me walk with you through the thick and thin in the realms of life as well as in the abstract which you procreate so easily in your inimitable style. I notice from your recent poems that you are bearing some knee ache..hope you are taking care and treatment. Thanks for tweaking this one which propped it up in the stream, else I would not have noticed it...

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

I have had a bad knee for over 20 years from having broken the bones there. It Ain't getting better with age lol. They say write what you know and that's part of what I know lol.
I'm always a bit surprised when a minor edit brings new responses. I'm glad you walked along with me on this one and hope all the walking I do in my poetry hasn't worn you out............stan

author comment

I haven't worn out while walking along your poetry and I am sure I never will be weary of it. On the contrary it is always a pleasure. Take good care of yourself and your knee.

raj (sublime_ocean)

That last turn right and the dead end or finality of that last stretch of road, one day I hope a long way off, you will find that the bridge will have been made new just for your thoughts to go there, to those places that will remind you of all the things in this life you have done.
Maybe the name of the river the bridge crosses is Styx ???
Just a journey to the edge of eternity, but you have so many left turns to make before any more trips to that bridge, an excellent write to your normal standards,
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

I think I Might indeed be dwelling a bit too much on this theme. Thanks for the heads up and the visit.............stan

author comment

Great rhythm, and you have kept it up for a long write too..
mm is impressed

Only one thing, and it is minor, but I feel there were three or four places where the syntax was reversed, or a vital pronoun or article not included, for the sake of meter... perhaps there are other ways to say those verses?

All said and done though, they are minor points
I loved this write, and yes, sometimes the other side seems greener...
But lol - you went the hard path Stan....
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

I guess sometimes I accidentally get the meter close to right lol. But I always return to my old stuff to see what fresh eyes can find and fix. Which is why this showed back up now lol. I'm glad you liked this journey and I think as we get a bit longer of tooth we occasionally catch glimpses of the other side of the creek..............stan

author comment

they can't be counted. Again you take me on a journey and I liked this one especially as it is not pastoral. Regardless the trip, the ending was sad and lonely. It did not leave me at peace, but rather uncomfortable and wishful... again.
The meter was remarkably clean for verso libre. This is an old poem? Maybe I'll do that with something I'm not crazy about and see if I can get some help... Judyanne? Rula? Raj? Alid?

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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A lot of times it's seeing what is just beyond us that keeps us going I think.I think I wrote this about a year ago so it's old but not as old as a lot of my stuff lol.
You should always feel free to go back and edit an older poem. Indeed the fresh look will likely reveal a change that needs to be made but which was not obvious earlier. And it Might just garner some help from others as a bonus........
The end made you feel uncomfortable and wishful? Good, that's almost exactly what I was aiming for. At a certain age old discomforts reassert themselves regardless of how hard they are ignored. And this might even lead a person to wondering what he'll find on the other side of the creek..........stan

author comment

I changed the name because no one liked mine (Perspective), so I took one of the suggestions and named it Seeing.
I don't like that one either. Help me with my title oh title guru.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

see if I can find it the suggest a title so terrible that it'll make yours look inspired lol.......stan

author comment

I'm intrigued
Wanted to see if I could suggest a title for your write too
But can't find anything titled 'seeing'
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

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