On The Trail Poem by David Welch

Underneath the looming hemlocks,
the incline makes each step a strain,
up sandy earth and broken stone,
but I see sunlight up ahead.

Emerge upon a high ridgeline,
underfoot now is all bedrock,
scraggle pines peak through its big cracks,
throw shadows, the squirrels chitter…

The hot gaze of my favorite star
bounces off my boonie hat,
glorious, cancerous sunlight…
so I did out the SPF,

Slather it across my pale hide,
it will protect from one cancer,
pray that it won't cause another,
a risk of the game, I suppose.

Pack is feeling heavier now,
more weight on my tall walking stick,
looking for a spot to sit down—
a sudden flutter to my right!

Something brown flying away fast,
grouse or turkey, can't see clearly,
just shrug, the sound echoes inside,
pleasant soundtrack for my next steps.

The small pines clear and before me
a granite dome does loom up proud,
framed by Montana-blue sky
even thought it's upstate New York.

Small figures stand at the top,
early hikers who beat the heat,
drinking views, taking pictures
with an Adirondack back-drop.

Just a half-mile left to go,
I've done much longer than this one,
will take a thousand pictures too,
this isn't my first rodeo.