THE TRAIL by Mary-Kathryn
Night is falling on an oak lined trail
Misty calling of a whippoorwill
Golden hour through limbs and leaves
Glowing, glimmering, shining eaves
Exchange the light for deepest blue
Turning black with speckled hue
Clouded grays and dots of white
Glittering, shimmering across the night
Timely emergence from the trees
That lined the trail and covered me
I emerge to see what’s evident, clear
Remembering, remembering every year
There’ve been no hopeful wishes, no ill regrets
Just beautiful promises made and kept
Thankful, grateful, as I think of you
Beneath this open heaven of blackish blue
