Slow Hike. Poem by dave lessard

Vista Park, invites an evening walk
down across a gully wide and deep -
shadows chase the setting of the sun
on a wash that mortals cannot leap.

The air is bracing, fraught with wind
I embrace it as I hike along -
here, walking on this desert trail
is where, I do believe, that I belong.

The memory of green forests fade away
once etched, into my boyhood's soul -
now, in these hills, that I call home
I realize that they make me whole.

Lost in open space that I call vast
I am at peace and so i count the days -
of sharing in a void that I'll never fill
but sharing always, in its secret ways.

The night comes fast as sunset dies
I am invigorated by my evening stroll -
I amble... trudge quite quietly
for the love of speed is not my goal.