C.V. Eidson picks up worms off the sidewalk to move them to the grass, and cries when she is proud of someone. She is proud of you.
Legend
A legend tells you how to read a map.
Not where you’ll trip and sprain your ankle, though,
or where thin ice is cracking under snow
or whether you have walked into a trap.
Those hills - these are their names. Just go this far;
you, too, can curl up in the mountain’s lap.
A legend tells you how to read a map
but only you can tell you where you are.
It has been done before. It can be done.
Some hero lived through this to grip a pen.
What if you are not strong enough? Your best
may strand your bones to bleach beneath the sun.
But if your best is good enough, oh, then
one day your page will turn, your ink will run,
and you can set your legend down. And rest.
A legend tells you how to read a map.
Not where you’ll trip and sprain your ankle, though,
or where thin ice is cracking under snow
or whether you have walked into a trap.
Those hills - these are their names. Just go this far;
you, too, can curl up in the mountain’s lap.
A legend tells you how to read a map
but only you can tell you where you are.
It has been done before. It can be done.
Some hero lived through this to grip a pen.
What if you are not strong enough? Your best
may strand your bones to bleach beneath the sun.
But if your best is good enough, oh, then
one day your page will turn, your ink will run,
and you can set your legend down. And rest.
Comments