clear winding streams
divide wandering dreams
cool forests filled with evergreens
down twisted trail at deadfalls cross
I took rest upon soft bed of moss
in chorus with ever dimming skies
hear lone coyote's distant cries
fading echoes on the wind
his search and mine
will never end

gmw '17

Where my mind wanders during sleep is beyond me.

The mist and rain of the foothills solves all ills
Foothills that were once might mountains
Grow older and wiser; yet lie still and wait

© 2017 Case Coniglio
All rights reserved

Long has my spirit restlessly waited
For this journey to begin
Quickly I have found this journeys end
Although, I confidently know now
The spark deep within
Burns and glows brightly
For many nights and days to come
Until, restlessness knocks again

© 2017 Case Coniglio
All rights reserved

Final thoughts after completing the Long Trail in Massachusetts.

Wander worried rambler roam.
Wander down the path of a riverside wood.
Step by step,
Shuffle to and fro.
A Forgotten industry remains.
Man made mines,
Dug out quarries,
Fencing, barbed wire, power lines, and pressure treated wooden poles.
Littering the landscape.
A blood letting favor, favored low.

A hydroelectric dam.

Murky and historical waters enter its mouth,
and then,
exit from its other side.
Constantly sucking, and spitting, and churning turbine whine,
Spinning gear stuck,
clamped to the spine.
Luck may have it that these waters may never go dry.
Luck may have it that these currents stay 'live.
Merrily manic, it flows.
Strong and bold,
sparkle, sprung, sold!
Pushes and rolls,
gives and goes.
Electric mother glow.

Neon, argon, blazing blast,
to give city speckled lights a mast.
A grip to grasp, to squeeze, to cast,
shadows in the night.
Yellow, orange, red, and blue,
the shades of dreamers,
with their sorrows leaded, heavy,
holy truths.
Unspoken tomorrows, last goodbyes,
mouthed silently at last
in their heads a film score out of time.

The air is baked, the land is spry.
The sun is shattered through prism pines.
I carry myself upon the leaves, of dead footsteps, make believe.
Native footpaths of long ago
and red sandstone trail of men to behold.
Come to this place and let sights be known,
Come to this place and let sights be known,
histories of ours, histories bygone.

Hiking thoughts put into words. The Red Sandstone Trail is a trail that follows along the Raquette River. The trail-head is located in Colton, NY. The hike is one of historical nature. Many remnants of business and industry remain abandoned along the riverside. A picturesque picture painted by the clash of man made industry, and the awesomeness of nature.
Breeze-Mist Jul 7

The moon's outline is always crisper
And the stars seem to multiply
When I'm away from the city air
Beneath a clearer sky
And sometimes I don't notice
(I'm more worried about the bears)
But when I can let my guard slip
I never really want to leave there

Everything converges.
The bright orange of the sun
streaking the mountains, the cool
evergreens, the rippling water
from the breeze rushing in and out,
leaves rustling to and fro,
birds singing, squirrels skittering,
all to this moment, for the journey
has fallen behind, and this is all
that is left. The bright and dark
spots left for those to wander.

Breeze-Mist Jul 3

There are a great deal of things you can eat
After a long day of hiking
Because after a trail in afternoon heat
Nearly anything is to your liking
However, please note that it's almost
Because no mater how hard you try
You can't make good chicken pesto
In two minutes with water and ramen under the sky

Breeze-Mist Jul 1

One of the best things in life
Is hiking up a massive hill
Reaching the top and seeing the light
As water cascades into a pond where birds trill
And you set down your pack to breathe
And wade knee deep in mountain forest air
And then lie back against cool stones in ease
And bend back to let the current rinse your hair

Sam Jul 1

If I die in the mountains, leave me there to rot.
My boots will outlive my flesh.

So just push me from the trail, and cover me with dirt.
My soul, it will be free.

Bury me where the air is fresh and foliage is lush.
My true home, and the only one I've known.

Don't cry a single tear.
My corpse will disappear.

Far below the earth.
My heart can finally rest.

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