Crossing the trestle to get to the trail,
the choice now had a lot to entail:
To go left or go right or right back around?
Not much time remained as the train whistle sounded.
To go down to the river or aim for the hill,
An option was needed to escape the chill.
Cross the water and hope for more
Or wander down along the shore?
The stars were the curtains, the blanket, the calm
Like the smoothness of the walking stick against the rough palm.