Trail Poems

As everyone in my life, my Instagram, and my mother's life knows, I walked a significant distance south through Washington State this year. Accompanied by my cousin, my uncle, and my uncle’s friend, I walked as far as I ever have. In my tent, on the trail, and in the comfort of an occasional coffee shop, I wrote some things after a bit of harsh encouragement from my cousin, Ben. This is what I wrote.

Struggling to write

Dotted notes on piano keys 

to dull the empty lines on a page.

Waiting for company to be able to write is loneliness.

High-precision drafting can be done in

Quick minutes.

But the pen must touch the paper,

or at least allow your mind to

flirt with its thoughts.

Conversations Between Men

Leaving a dull conversation,

one which has a hairy mouthpiece,

littering unsung thoughts of a lonely man carelessly.

Reckless abandonment,

of any awareness,

leaves you limp and redundant other than to be an earpiece.

The witness to the one cracked bough,

headed for the pined carpet below.

An exit backwards, unnoticed, is the ideal.

Leaving not because you’re bored but

because you’re not the commotion.

Your wit, lost on the surround sound of laughter

of your stolen brilliance.

Burn Zone

Take your cap off.

You can't appreciate the

Beauty you don’t see

after walking around in the shade.

Bend around the path,

half moon above your head

and let the calling breeze cool you.

How to be still? And then how to carry on?

Walking to bear witness and to bear anguish,

the tug at your ribs to remind you 

You are

driftwood still standing.

I always wondered what I would focus on if I hauled myself out to the woods and sat with my thoughts. Honestly, it was intimidating because you end up with a weight of self-imposed pressure, hoping you will come up with something poignant or the beginning of a masterpiece. Why else would you bother, right? Instead, I ended up writing myself a pat on the back, a form of self-encouragement. Quickly, they became something fun to do when I was walking alone, a remedy of distraction from my aching legs, back, and shoulders.

I know exactly when I wrote each poem along the trail and can feel the moments that delivered them. I'm thankful I can attach memories to myself permanently through poems. If I didn't write them down, I'd have a little less of the best thing I've ever done.