At dawn, I part with my little one’s smile,
A fleeting warmth that lingers awhile.
Through city streets, I tread alone,
To where the river sings in undertone.
The Hudson calls with a silver gleam,
Muscota whispers like a distant dream.
Through Fort Tryon’s ancient grace,
Inwood’s trails, my heart’s embrace.
The trees, the benches, the winding stone,
In silence, they speak, though I walk alone.
Copper leaves drift, a story untold,
Snow falls briefly, fleeting and cold.
The veteran’s bench, a moment still,
A hush that lingers, a voice that thrills.
Darkness lingers but does not scare,
The woods remind me they are there.
Yet when I leave, I yearn once more,
For bridges, paths, the forest floor.
A tutor, nature, guiding me through,
A lesson whispered in morning dew.
I do not know where this path may lead,
But I follow the voice in rustling reeds.
Perhaps a poem, perhaps a song,
Perhaps I’ve known this place all along.
Each day, new trees rise from the mist,
Their silent shadows, like an iron fist.
They crowd my thoughts, erase the ache,
Their ancient whispers help me wake.
A fleeting moment, a shifting view,
I find myself in scenes anew.
And though my heart may still feel torn,
The woods soothe me, like they were sworn.
The silence deepens, yet I don’t mind,
For here I lose the weight I find.
And though the world may turn away,
I find my peace where shadows sway.
I do not wish for this to end,
The trees, the path, my constant friend.
In darkness deep, a truth I see,
Alone, but not, in nature’s plea.
With every step, the earth feels strange,
Yet in its stillness, I find my range.
A new tree rises, bending light,
Its presence lifts me from the night.
I feel their roots beneath my feet,
They call to me, a voice discreet.
A world unknown, but deeply known,
In every leaf, I feel I’ve grown.
The loneliness doesn’t seem to burn,
As nature’s quiet makes me turn.
A dark embrace, but not in fear,
The woods, they whisper, drawing near.
And still, I walk with no regret,
Through woods and paths, the past forget.
Each tree, a story left untold,
Each path, a secret yet to unfold.
I wonder if this quiet phase
Will turn to something more in days.
But for now, I need not know,
For here I walk, and here I grow.
The world behind me feels so far,
While nature’s arms are my guiding star.
And though I long for company,
I find in trees, my harmony.
Sometimes, I buy a tall coffee, warm,
When money’s there, it feels like charm.
But on days when it’s tight, I walk with thirst,
And miss that taste, that simple burst.
I snap a picture, frozen in time,
Of branches swaying, bells that chime.
They sit in my collection, forgotten, but dear,
A quiet reminder of all I hold near.
The images stay, and I wonder why,
What to do with them, I can’t deny.
Yet in these frames, a love remains,
A quiet beauty that still sustains.
I do not wish for this to cease,
For here alone, I find my peace.
A tutor in the woods I see,
Teaching me what it means to be free.