Footsteps in the past
These heavy feet Burdened by ghosts Of my grandfathers
Reminding history Like wispy shackles Dragging stowaways
On my ankles Through my forest trek. As walking in
Their steps of old Ice cold conditions Better gear for me
But me and my Cold feet must carry The miles of quiet.
My youngest son Reminds me that The 10 miles I
Journeyed were but One day of 10 Miles for months
For the souls Who took upon The Oregon Trail.
I’ll keep my Coffee Hot and my Thoughts pastoral
And I will sleep On my memory-foam Mattress!