Good Timing Poem by David Welch

New boots, pressing on my heels,
still stiff, not yet broken in,
stomping on roots, beds of needles
dropped by towering white pines,
scuffing on gneiss and granite
as they pound down the trail.

Have been walking since early morn,
a long trail on a high peak
in the far north of New York.
first break in the rain in a week,
makes for a very wet trail,
but a hiker goes when he can
and always watches the skies.

Got up to the peak, saw far clouds
moving quickly on the wind,
zephyr pushing them from the west,
so I double-timed it down.
I know that it's coming soon,
weatherman was wrong again.

Glint of glass and chrome through trees,
sure sign of trail-head parking lot,
take off bear-mace and big knife,
change my shirt and clamber in.
Relax and breath for a moment,
muscles tense like coiled springs.

Then a drop on the windshield,
another and another, slow at first,
the heavens open fire on us all,
big, downpour drops ring off metal.
Tired as I am, I will wait,
rest a bit until it slackens.

At least I'm not still up there…