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Yellowstone

Yellowstone

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Poem.
Poem.

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Published by: Thomas L. Holderfield on Dec 23, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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12/23/2012

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YELLOWSTONEThe setting Sun's rays shed speckled lighton the man standing under the brightsky's changing colors and cloud formations.Just this morning, he had stopped at several train stationswhile on his journey to this special place.The end of the line, where, in any case,he would cease to exist in a matter of days.It was, after all, the end time and, in many ways,he had been preparing himself for these last momentsall his life, through all the trials and torments,just for this last journey, his last trip.Now he had finally arrived, and. as the sun took its final dipbelow the horizon, he recounted his life in his mind.He went over the many good times that he could findburied amongst the overpowering bad times.He had visited many places and exprienced many climes,but none held more satisfaction and meaning than this current setting.And, if he were to be betting,he would never see any other place.This plot of land, this hallowed ground, was the end of the race.And, even for all his faults, he felt a moment of gracehere at the end of all things good or bad.It did not seem to make him particuarly sad,in fact, given his recent pain and suffering, he was actually gladthat the end had arrived.This ending at this place at this time he had contrivedwith great effort and, yes, a little bit of luck.He lit up his long, curved pipe and took a deep puff.The nearby pond revealed geese and even a duckunder the Sun's last fair gleaming.The water began steamingas the coolness of the evening set in.His luggage he had dropped off at a nearby innand he had slowly walked these familiar stepsto this place, this place that held meaning down into the depthsof his being.Now that darkness was affecting his seeing,he sat down, he and his pipe, and waited for it.And it came.Slowly, like the sneaking up of a feral cat.He took one last breathand rolled over one last time to lay on this ground.A tear trailing down his now cooling cheekwas his last act.To die in such a place was truly a blessing he thought...The Yellowstone ashes covered him in molten gloryand the end of the man was forever outlinedin volcanic stone that none would ever find,as none were left,here near the vaporized pond.It was a new world now, a world for new lifeto take hold and to grow, to know strife

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