Winding Roads

Winding Comeragh roadOn winding roads, the destination appears within reach, around the next corner, past weathered clumps of dried grass, each twist and turn bringing more of the same. Time waits for no man, so they say, but I’m not in a hurry, the air is fresh, clean. Mountain sheep invite me to stay awhile. We meet in mutual consideration, acknowledge footsteps, insignificant in eyes that long only to arrive. This winding, mountain road holds me, spellbound, rooted, my destination, here, now.

2 Comments

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.