the worn trail

the worn trail
beaten down to dirt
and stone
the grass feathered
away, the wash
of rain
and ice, the snow
melting, has deepened
the rut,
the way
to the stream.
you follow it down,
into the years,
into the bends
and folds
of your own legs.
leaning on
new trees
and old. you'll
continue to go
as long as you can,
habit being what it
is.