Evelyn Klebert

Dusty shoes on a well-worn path,

Time to take them off

And shake them out.

I breathe in deep,

The floral air,

Fading fragrances from a past dimly remembered.

I’m at that half-way point

Or maybe a little beyond.

Time to pause, take stock, one last look at the fading landscape,

Like parting glances from an old friend,

And then eyes pointed forward

Just toward the horizon,

Toward the rest of the journey.

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