From The Turning Of The Page

By C.D.Courter
From the book "Shasta Cycle, a Journey by Bicycle"

                  From the Turning of the Page
                       (Hatchet Mountain)


  Up the long ramp surveyed straight
as a string pulled taught around two nails
   I go in the morning, Slowly up the steep slope

                            that came too soon!

                          No time for breakfast
                                to be absorbed,
                                no time to warm
                         the legs on the flats,

                     Sooner than expected . . . 

                           Some hills are hard, 
                       But this one's downright
                                          Mean.

After a span of time and space,
                      a turnout offers rest
                      away from trucks, away
                 from the noise      and rush,

                 And an unexpected view

              Opens to the east:
             beyond the Burney Valley
            beyond Big Valley Mountain
           beyond to the day before --
                         And I gaze in awe toward Bieber,
                        and think about days rolling by
                              --  About Ending !!
                                  about soon to be
                                         Nevermore.


                  Until today,
                  it's been all looking forward, 
                  about going on to unreachable
                                          goals,
                                          about tomorrow . . .

            But in the morning haze I can see
            that long trail made of endless bits
              connected by drive !!
              by looking past the turning of the page.


         Warmed, now, in the morning sun,
                 I look back, instead, 
                 and for the first time
                           sense that looming end --

                 near, but not yet touched.

             I am loath to let it go . . .
             For an hour, I sit on a bench
             lost in thought.


          At last I resolve to begin a-new, 
             the climb up that steep ramp,
                      and with a steady motion
                      make a slow but steady advance
to a bend, and around,
                            to another, and a third,
                          and again the unexpected:
                       the summit sign . . . it came too soon!

                The last pass was crested sooner then expected --
                        and somehow, it's time to descend.



                                           C. D. Courter        




(c)2003 C. D. Courter
All rights reserved.
No commercial use allowed without written permission from the author.