Thursday, June 23, 2011

TTL Poem: Ghosts



Ghosts


When I find myself alone in the forest,
I wonder who has come before,
Walked these trails,
Lived among these trees.

Did tribes of Indians haunt this place?
Did they creep effortlessly through thick brush,
Stalking silent deer
Or thundering bison?

Did early explorers pass through with vigilant trepidation?
Did they make camp among these streams,
Looking over their shoulders as they drank,
Scared to close their eyes at night?

Did confident settlers carve stone to build small, dark cabins?
Did they know that the remnants of these dwellings
Would disappear over time,
Leaving only crumbling fireplaces to tell their stories?

I wonder who might come after me.
Will they contemplate these things as I do?
Or will they just keep walking through,
Unquestioning and uncaring?

3 comments:

  1. Beautiful! I too, always wonder...

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  2. Footprints can either be forgotten or leave an impression greater than we imagine. It is hard to predict which one it will be. great post.

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  3. e. - Thanks! It's kind of crazy to think about, isn't it?

    d. - Well said.

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