Oneonta

Vacation is almost over. Time to write one last thing. This one I will publish:

Oneonta

In the early hours

of the morning

the knee twinges

and the ankle cracks

middle age will not

lie still and rustles

and roams

I slip back to Oneonta

And it is late October

and it is cold for late October

and it is raining

It is always cold

and raining

and late October

in Oneonta

The trail is narrow

like a thin gash

and the earth is raw

and muddy

my hands grasp at the steep slick earth

and the rain runs down the trail

like the small mountain stream

that it could be

I am far below the crest

I see the crest

And Coach stands at the top

and he looks at his watch

and he looks at me

and he looks at his watch

and he shakes his head

and he looks at me

There is no

reflection in his eyes

And it is cold

and it is raining

and it is late October

and it is Oneonta

It is always Oneonta

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