Back Arm Trail

when I was young
I took the back arm way home
where the town ended and the forest began
the whole journey protected
by those evergreen trees I shared days with

every step was like a play
knowing the parts by heart, knowing the story to home
running along in places
others stopping for a spell
little legs, lasting time in the in-between moments of my once-life

dust filled the air in places
where the sun’s light peeked and scattered through
no huge rock was safe from a climb
no flat rock was safe from a skip
no white rock was safe from a closer look
as those same evergreen trees urged me to take it all in
with their perfumes and colognes
and… I did

then came the spot with the trickling brook
brown and shallow… about halfway
I take a sip, only a sip
too much more and the belly tells me
so I carry on this path that opens up to a field
my first instinct is to run
but I always chose to hold hands with the tall grass
walk
shoot the breeze

up until the grass grows lower and the woods eat me up again
dark in places
damp and muddy
any ten year old would hate that part too

I keep poking my stick with each stride
I wip it in the air
I think about throwing it away
then I don’t

there it is

the bottom of the hill
and the path with the white berries
I roar… I run… I smile in the sun
home is almost

I get to the top and look
with no breath
over the mountains
out toward the ocean-wide
and the spot where the town ended and the forest began
the whole back arm trail

I was brave
I was tired
I was ten