the dark side of the hill

Here in the dark of this night, i thought of this piece i wrote years ago. Don’t know why. Been thinking about folks and how we seem to thirst to hear about other folks being on the dark side while we ignore we too have been to that dark side. i guess that’s it. i have been to the dark side. Still go there on a too frequent basis. Figure we all do once in a while unless we aren’t all that bright and ignore it. Sad. The dark place ain’t all that bad if you take it for what it’s worth. Look to make something good out of it. Let in a little bit of light. i hope, if you read this, you can catch that beam of light shining through.

the dark side of the hill

I was walking down a small-town street
a cold, harsh Sunday
when from a corner of an alley
a huddled, gnarled old man
leering from under a soiled and torn fedora
spoke to me:

“I have been to the dark side of the hill,
my boy,
“I can tell by your gait,
you are headed there;
frivolity and adventure
are what you seek,
but it’s not there,
son.”

I paid no heed, passing away
from the old man,
continuing to pass through
the sun-reflected snow
to the zenith of the hill,
and on.

the wind is biting
on the dark side of the hill;
there is no sun
to disperse the cold.

now, on some small-town street
on a cold, harsh any day
in the corner of an alley,
a huddled, muddled, gnarled old man
waits.

i have been to the dark side of the hill;
my gait is altered.

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