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Poet Commentaries

Blazing a New Trail

Oh don’t kid yourself
You want your little rut
to be paved
and trafficked,
made into a TripTik
and recognized
by Google.

 

So Geocache it
leave a note
where and when
you parted those first boughs,
stepped over that first log
and snapped the errant limb;
where prints paced
pondering where next.

 

Mark each bend.
The sound of keys
on keyboard
the whistle of kettle,
the feel of the fall
and sound of the spring
to ergonomic
and well worn in.

 

I am trailblazer gardener
decompressing soils
in old worn ruts
transplanting indigenous
fronds and fauna
scratching out urine scent
from the base
of my favourite trees.
I can fluff up
matted pine needle pillows
and place again
new twigs to snap.

 

I am good
but untrod
always looks different
from once trod
and there are ruts
beside my repairs.

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