Columbus Day

The ride between

Here and there is neither

Long nor short

But a matter of time

A life time perhaps

With Winter/Summer

Spring/Fall

Crowded on the sides

Like observers to

A great parade

Floats drifting

Bands blaring

Soldiers stomping by

In an invasion of elation

Some secret self

Takes to heart

Wishing for other things

Thinking of other places

Full of trees and leaves

And rushing streams

Thought lost to the blaring

Of music off the face

Of stone buildings,

All filled with echoes

Of the past

Some remote dream road

That appears on no map

And we all just stumble along

With no real notion

Of where we are,
where we are going

How to get back

Or if we even want to

This parade

Going on and on

And eventually even

Without us.