The trail poem Moving On has taken its title seriously and gone ahead to the Somewhere Else. I like to imagine that the creature who lives in this hole down the way decided to take it in. Who knows? The poem was set free so I wish it a good journey.

The trail poem Moving On has taken its title seriously and gone ahead to the Somewhere Else. I like to imagine that the creature who lives in this hole down the way decided to take it in. Who knows? The poem was set free so I wish it a good journey.


Pandemic Earth Day #2. Poem plant on the trail. The ceremony was attended by a hawk who circled around us as we headed down the trail. It looked like he went back to read it again. I can’t be certain, but I think it is the same hawk who appears in the first line of the poem.
MOVING ON
Hawks, rocks, sky.
Let’s not re-enter so hard and fast we forget them.
Let’s keep the secrets of
horned toads near the path
paw prints in the snow
lizards climbing rocks
geese returning to the field.
Moons will rise, suns will set, winds will blow.
We will remember,
even if we’re not here to greet them.

“Dance with me, Red.”
Sheila looked up into the hazel eyes of the young soldier holding out his hand to her.
“Sure.” She stood and followed him to the dance floor.
“Where’ve you been all my life, pretty Blue Dress Girl?”
“Right here. How about you?”
“I’ve been looking for you.”
They danced to Glenn Miller’s band, in their own world on the crowded dance floor. Sheila knew this boy would soon be on a troop ship headed into the deep darkness of Europe.
But they had an hour together and they were in love. That was enough.
**Thanks to Albuquerque Reading Works for the challenge to write 100 word stories for their 2021 writing contest. They are an adult literacy center and a good cause.