we walked this winding trail
along the valley up to a ridgeline
there was an old miners cabin at the top
he had the most spectacular view
there was a rusted bed frame still inside
from his bed he could see out a tiny window
to the heavens
and hear a tiny creek meander below
the quiet overwhelmed us
as we all sat in silence
taking in this vista
he must have seen a thousand times
we wondered who he was
and why he left
was it bad news from home
or did he tire of the peace
of being alone
we followed the same meandering  trail
back down to the valley floor
lookin back one last time
we thought we saw him wave goodbye