morning fog hangs low
over the trail
as i run,
the faint and familiar path
leading me deeper
into memory.
on both sides the shrouded
wire-framed shapes
of towering trees
now stripped of leaves
watch silently
as i pass
and bow in homage
to all the ghosts
from my forsaken past.
each step echoes
in dead air,
with robins strangely silent
as my mind trips
down memory lane
while i wonder
if a home whimsical
and marvelous
lies somewhere up
ahead.
