Like fence posts in the heavy snow,
I leave the past behind
And walk a line toward morning
and tomorrow
Each post a buried symbol
of a choice I failed to make
Its wire torn
and hanging in the wind
The range that lies ahead
a second chance to right the future
The sun now hanging low
against its peaks
Mountains pull me onward
each decision a new calling
My heart and will in locking steps
—as darkness falls again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March,2018)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice, Kurt. The mountains pull me, too. The first verse of one of my poems starts like this: I love those verdant mountains; Let me be there in those hills, (I can't show the rest because I am entering it in a contest next week and it has to be unpublished.) Anyway, the mountains really do have a pull on me. Your poem is well done.