Up and gone just ere the sun
shines through the window glass,
no destination yet decided on.
I'll just see what comes to pass
but somewhere where wild things run free.

Old truck strains at every hill
telling me it's tune up time.
It's grumpy but, like me, going still
with time caked on us both like rime.
Hmmm....I'll turn left at that tree.

Glory be, a gravel road!
No sign declares it has an end.
Somehow its stone lightens my load
of exploring without kin or friend.
Years have taken both from me.

No house, pasture or barn in site
just this grinding road gives hint
that man has ever spread his blight
nor to the mills was timber sent.
I brake for turkey crossing daintily.

Then I slowly continue on my way
through an emerald tunnel of tree tops
supported by pillars of ancient gray
on my quest which never stops
in the world as it was meant to be.

the woods soon change from oaks to pines
with persimmons where sun is let in.
Some tall trees have been scaled by vines
where their fruit will fall thick when
velveted antlers cease to be.

Now the way reclines toward some stream
and a doe head peeks behind a bush
then disappears as if a dream
in a white flagged bounding rush
exhaling snorts in midst of flee.

The creek arrives but there's no bridge
instead a rocky shallow ford
leading toward a distant ridge
and as if of its own accord
my tuck splashes across handily.

Then climbs out to an old flood plain
and woods as open as a park.
The journey has not been in vain
for on this unplanned little lark
I've regained my sense of being free...

Eyes rise from this now filled page,
pen clicks as ball point disappears
lips purse in a minor rage;
to avoid falling in arrears
work harkens now insistently.