photo by Bill Keller

by Bill Keller

I can’t get lost — this trail runs straight. 
I go a few miles out and back.
No intersections, choosing routes,
just the Yes of gravel underfoot.

I sometimes dream another way,
scrambling up on open rock,
no rut to mark the path, no map
to a breathless view. 

The hills below roll like the sea and 
a tilting barn could be a raft
that barely tops the waves but still
takes me where I’ve never been….

I think I can’t pick up the thread,
then spot my tiny car, nose in,
along the crushed-stone avenue 
I’ll walk again, again, and again. 

Bill Keller

Bill Keller is a local poet and novelist