Field Notes #27

A Poem for New Year's Eve

Photo by Nikita Pishchugin on Unsplash

“For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning."
-from 'Little Gidding' by T. S. Eliot

FIELD NOTES #27

You think you'll put it down,
finally relieving yourself of
	all that weight.
You find a clearing, toss your pack,
and throw yourself down
on a bed of green grass. 
	
But you know and I know,
its only for a moment,
and just as your back
sings with relief
the trailhead beckons 
and your back on your feet.
		
	You have miles to move
			and miles to move,
				and only so much sun.

	So you pick up your pack,
	pull tight your straps,
	and force your feet to run.

---