The Trail Machine
The solitude of the untamed lands,
Where only kindred spirits roam,
Leaving just a narrow trail behind,
To mark their passing to my eyes.
Cool forests where tall trees march on in
Where little grows in the
The sun white-hot in a cobalt sky
Turning creeks into rocky ditches,
Their deep pools into slippery mud.
Painting the world in shades of tan.
The dust of the trail soft and deep.
Winding trails flanked
by such dense foliage
With the sky a narrow blue ribbon
The sudden opening of
To see a hazy panorama
Of rich black earth plowed into fields,
Dotted with houses and clumps of trees,
Spun together with web-like roads.
And through it all, whenever you ride,
The straining scramble up a hillside.
The quick rush down the other side.
To bring back memories of other times,
Of other places and events.
The muted rumbling of the engine
Or a protesting,
Standing out from the sounds around you
To know the heady exhaltation
Of pushing flesh and blood and bone,
Of straining heart and nerve and senses
To the greatest heights they can reach.
Then pushing on, beyond all
Forging out of man and
To know the power and the glory.
All I Need | Alone | America | Chigger Hill | Christmas 2000 | Destiny | Dreams | Evening | Fall
Friendship | Laughter | Love | Memories | Moon Phases | Morning | MyCountry MyWorld
My Friend | My GIFS | Pets | Pond | Sandbox | Shelter | Solitude | Somebody | Spring
Spring Snow | Storms | Summers Eve | Sunrise | Sunsets | Thundershowers | Trail Ride | Twilight
Two Roads | Whispers | Wildflowers | Wildness | World Clock
This page last updated on 14 Jul 1999.