THE MOUNTAIN ROAD
We passed on an empty highway
He went his way I went my way
A highway which time had passed
A short route over the hills to town
A narrow trail with trees overgrown
A place where only hunters roam
We approached from half a mile or so
It's funny for the road most goes in circles
On its way around rocks and rills
Yet in this one place on top the hill it's straight
As if the wish half way was to get there faster
More likely here there was nothing to go around
Or that this short section of the earth was sound
A hundred years past construction
We apporached from some distance
If it had been a city street
No words would be passed
No need to greet
But you know that could never be
Out here where we are outnumbered by trees
To pass without word or sound
To walk with face pointed to the ground
Would haunt the soul and vex the mind
Yet reasons why are hard to find