The Canopied Road


Trudging down the old cemetery road
Without a thought without a care
Enjoying the mist, the air so clean

From the distance you swear you hear
A horse neighing sounds of laughter

Yet there is none on that road, calm serene
No human, no souls do wander near

Then from the mist, a buggy comes froth
Cold clammy air suddenly grasps the lungs
The hairs on your neck and arms stand up

A passerby from a another day tips his hat
A young Victorian lady giggles and nods

Then as suddenly the mist swallows them whole
Once again you are alone, yet the past surrounds

Walk into yesterday, the past unfolds
Dust flies upward, mud still clings to ruts
A small walk on this tree line road

Trees planted a century ago, so it is said
Still alive, their branches reach for the heavens

Their golden leaves mirror the sun
Where the past still leaves in memory


About jasterling

One part of my life is in the science of anthropology and archaeology where I did comparative work. My other life that I am now pursuing is writing along the lines of fantasy/sci fi fictional writing as my one way to stay sane in this other insane world. Please enjoy the selections you will find in my blog.
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