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In
woods where nobody goes
he finds a creek
overgrown by weeds and reeds and willows
and following around with the aid of his stick
he climbs uphill through brambles and briars
using the stick as a makeshift machete
until he gets to the other side
and then again going round
he spies an unusual opening in the woods
almost grown over but still
there is something there to pique interest
a whispered invitation
and so he goes in
and finds the trail opens up into an old road
disguised by cover of leaves and brush and
years of neglect
but the mark is still clear enough
there once was an old dirt road here
and so he follows it to see where it goes
further and further until he sees a dark shadow
out of the corner of his eye
and walking toward it finds
it is the hulk of an old car
stripped out to only a hollow shell
left for dead out here in these winter woods
how it got down in here is a mystery
yet there it is parked on a precipice
right above the creek
he guesses they could drive no further
so parked it, stripped it, and left it to become ruin and rust
to be discovered only by those who go down lost roads
who follow old trails to see where they might go
there is no telling what can be found if you walk around
ghosts and skeletons and creatures of the night
leave their footprints in out of the way
dark places in the woods
it is up to wanderers to follow them
and find what is at the end of the trail
over the next hill or around the bend
always wondering what comes next
seeking is the native trait of wanderers
the reward is the joy of
each new discovery.
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