Thursday, October 10, 2019
I wrote this poem while I was on my “Southern Tier” bicycle tour. I also kept a journal on the tour, you can read the journal by clicking on the Archive Link at the top of this page and selecting “Southern Tier 2019.”
The moon is almost full,
wood is burning, warming the water.
Smoke from the fire permeates the air
Not too strong.
I can’t imagine a better place.
I can, but it shall remain a mystery
I must return here,
to the music playing,
to water perfect temperature,
to the star filled sky and
Corded guitar accompanies me,
sounding like symphony
under the stars.