Dust puffs beneath my well worn boots
with every weary step I take.
Once in a while a sharp pain shoots
from knees which are recently fake.

I've walked so many unpaved lanes,
avoiding asphalt when I could.
This way is steep above the plains
but I guess still moving is good.

A huge hickory sends welcome shade
on, this, a warm mid autumn day
across the road from a wild glade.
Ere long its leaves will float away.

So I cross road ditch to sit down
and lean against grey scaly bark
then gaze into its soaring crown
and listen to a meadow lark.

It takes a while to catch my breath.
I smile back at my younger days
years when I never thought of death.
A time grown dim through years' thick haze.

The buzz of late fall honey bees
almost lures me into slumber
till I'm brought to by an errant breeze
and decide to go on with my lumber.

So with stiff joints I slowly rise,
take a sip from my old canteen
and swat at a couple of deer flies
whose eyes mock me with their deep green.

My truck awaits beyond the bend.
With it will end this day's short roam.
Some other day will hold my end
when some country road will take me home.