"As good as any," the weary traveler said,
"For us to set our burdens down, and rest our heads."
Stopped they to ease their feet along the winding road
But just a little then, and picking up their loads
They journeyed onward toward a slowly setting sun
Assuming miles stretched far ahead ere they were done.

"This place," she whispered, as she held his withered hand,
"As good as any," though not the resting they'd planned.
"You wait, while I go on ahead," her whisper sighed,
His resting place so shallow, the winding road beside.
Suns rose and set a little while slowly she trudged on,
The hazy past a trail; eternity beyond.