Monthly Archives: November 2016
The Solitary Man
He walks –
And his feet lead to the green door
He sees familiar sites
The rose arbor, the trellis he made before
He knocks –
And waits patiently
He asks himself
When did I come here last?
He feels that sudden knot of fear
Regrets come late
Remorse is an even bitter pill to swallow
Am I late, he asks?
The door opens
And he sees a stranger.
I am…..he says
Come in, the stranger answers.
The decor has changed
And the pictures are gone
Is this…..he could not go on
She died a year ago.
The stranger says.
She could have waited.
If you said you were coming back.
She could have told you.
She has never forgotten.
A decade –
Days and months of waiting
Even a loving heart
Sometimes feel tired
Even a happy soul
Slowly dies….
And love, long after it’s neglected
Dies a natural death too.
He retraces his steps
And becomes
A solitary man
Once more.
Today’s Quote
I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets. It has
given me blessed release from care and worry and the troubled thinking of our modern day. It has been a return to the primitive and the peaceful. Whenever the pressure of our complex city life thins my blood and benumbs my brain, I seek relief in the trail; and when I hear the coyote wailing to the yellow dawn, my cares fall from me – I am happy.
~Hamlin Garland, McClure’s, February 1899
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