The trail, being impossibly steep, rocky and generally unpleasant
Did offer a view, an excellent view, down the amber slope towards the
Shimmering lake nestled between the curving paths.
I could see them, the small people on bicycles, pushing strollers, arm in
Arm perhaps, and some dogs and if I squinted, perhaps, a baby gracefully
Swishing through the air on her swing.
It was a good moment to pause, to listen to my breath gradually slow,
To let the sweat dry, and to just look, gaze, reflect, pause a moment
Thinking that the small lake would survive these times, would be here long
After my passing, is still here after the recent passing of my friend, Ken,
The one who told me he would herd goats if he failed his doctoral oral exams.
He passed, and so did I, as I remembered so long ago that simple conversation
Which will live on as long as there is someone to hear it.
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